


Once Upon

by caitastrophe8499



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Anastasia (1997) References, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitastrophe8499/pseuds/caitastrophe8499
Summary: Leonard Snart is running a con, and he needs the perfect woman to help him accomplish it. Ta-er al-Sahfer is a woman who's running from her bloodied past, and remembers nothing before the League of Assassins found her. A chance meeting throws the two of them together to create a new life for the both of them. (Yeah, it's an Anastasia rewrite. Fight me.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No update on "Granted" this week, I'm sorry. Instead, sneak preview at another work in progress, because I can't make up my mind!  
> Enjoy. I own nothing and make no money. Whooooo.

“Get to the lifeboats!”

Quentin Lance tried to count heads, but there was chaos on the ship. He swore under his breath again at the idiocy of the mayors of Star and Central City having this stupid cruise in the first place, but couldn’t do anything about it now. “Get to the lifeboats!” he shouted again, but the words were lost in the screams as the boat lurched painfully to the side. He fell, his head cracking against the wall, but shook it off and ignored the blood as he helped one of the cops from Central City back to his feet. Thunder rolled across the floor - that or an explosion below - and lightning illuminated the panicking mass of people as they abandoned the dinner, their luggage, their reason, screaming and careening towards one of the three exits.

The cop grabbed his wrist, “Lance - Commissioner Lance - I haven’t seen your daughter.”

Quentin went pale. “Sara? She was in her room.”

“I haven’t seen her and my boy was down below, looking for stragglers, I haven’t seen him, either,” the cop said, hanging onto the wall.

Quentin panicked, but he saw the Mayor, his assignment, struggle and fall to the ground. He tripped forward, shouting back, “Go find them! Get them into the lifeboats!”

When the cop hesitated, fear on his face as the boat rocked again, Quentin snarled at him.

“Now, Officer Snart!”

* * *

Sara slid across the hallway, her socks providing no traction at all the slick halls. Though she was only eight, she knew well enough to climb up and out and not wait for rescue. She hit the wall, a pained noise slipping out. Lightning arced across the sky, stabbing through the portholes and showed Sara the water streaming in behind her, the boat listing to the side and back, making the climb to the lifeboats nearly impossible for her. She used the handles to pull herself forward toward the stairs, but they swung wildly, making the trek long and nearly impossible.

Still, she pulled herself upwards, grabbing a door frame instead, when the wild tossing and turning of the boat sent the door slamming back into her fingers and making her let go. She lost her grip and slid back towards the rushing water, a scream choking her throat-

A hand grabbed out, snagging her wrist and though the stop was painful, she didn’t end up in the water.

An older boy, dressed in police blues, hung onto the door. His dark hair was cut closely to his head. Though his face was pale, he forced a smile. “Hi.”

She’d seen him around the boat. He was a rookie and this was his first assignment. Her dad had always taught her to trust cops and she did, grabbing onto his uniform tightly. Luke or Louis or-

“Len,” she gasped, clinging to his arm.

“Yeah,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and starting to pull them both towards the stairs. “It’s Sara, right? Everything’s gonna be fine. I’ve got you, okay?”

A horrible screeching noise started below them and Sara shivered, “Don’t let go.”

“I’m not gonna let you go. Promise.”

Laboriously, Len pulled them towards the stairs, nearly reaching them before he looked up. Sara followed his gaze, seeing another man in blue at the compartment door.

“Dad,” Len called out, relief obvious even to Sara. “Help us up.”

Len’s dad looked past them and Sara turned, a whimper escaping as she saw the water swirling around their ankles, rising faster with every second. A creak from above made her glance up.

“No!” Len was shouting. He pulled Sara up the stairs, his grip too tight on her. But all she could care about was the way the compartment door slammed in their faces, the sounds of a bolt sliding into place.

“You son of a bitch!” Len was screaming at the door. “No!”

Sara turned, the water still rising. “Len?”

He knelt next to her, the attempt at a smile even worse this time. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I’m gonna get this door open, but you’ve gotta be brave, okay?”

She nodded, sniffing to hide her tears, then let go of him to cling to the handrail. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, then the threw himself into trying to find a way through the door.

Sara watched the water rise higher and higher, trying to be brave and not cry. But the ship rumbled and seemed to twist. Len immediately turned to grab her and she reached for him, but her hands were wet. He snagged onto the bracelet her father had given her - part of a set - reached with his other hand, but silver wasn’t the strongest and with another lurch of the boat it snapped and -

“Sara!”

She fell into the swirling vortex of water below, Len’s shout still ringing in her ears.

* * *

Waves crested, white foam forming, then tumbling across the top of clear blue water, no memory of the storm that had ravaged the ocean the night before. The foam skittered across the sandy beach, some of it returning to the sea, some of it tangling in the torn and battered form of a little girl. At first glance, it didn’t seem as if the girl was even breathing, but the faint rise and fall of her chest disproved that. Blonde hair was plastered to her face and cheeks, tangling in the canary charm on her necklace, but even the sunburn and sand couldn’t hide the fact that she couldn’t have been older than seven or eight.

Footprints followed the trail of a different girl in black, her outfit out of place on a sandy beach such as this one. Though the armor she wore looked effective, it was also clean and untarnished, much like the haughty expression on the girl’s face; youth pretending at experience. However, despite her age, she didn’t seem like she cared much for appearances. She knelt next to the girl on the ground, rolling her onto her back as she looked her over. The shift in positioning forced the water out of her chest, and the blonde began coughing, spitting up the ocean water.

The blonde finally stopped coughing, drawing in ragged breaths, she clutched at the other woman. “What hap- Where am I?”

The girl in black hushed her, “Quiet, you are safe now. Were you caught in the storm?”

“What storm?”

The woman in black frowned, but a voice called out from behind her. “Nyssa! Where are you?”

The blonde glanced towards the voice, her hands unknowingly grabbing at her arms. “Wait, who are you?”

“My name is Nyssa Al-Ghul, Heir to the Demon.”

The blonde stared, her eyes wide with fear, “What?”

“It does not matter. What is your name?”

“I’m…” the blonde hesitated, shaking. “I’m...My name...I can’t- I can’t remember.” Her hands tightened on Nyssa, desperate for something to hold onto. “Why can’t I remember?”

Nyssa helped her to her feet, not commenting on the white-knuckled grip. “It is alright.” Putting her arm around her shoulders, Nyssa led her towards the others. “I will help you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Everything belongs to their respective creators.

**Fifteen Years Later**

**...**

Leonard Snart smirked as he opened the envelope. “This is it, Mick. Three tickets into Central City. Now all we need is-”

“The girl,” Mick rumbled. “I got us the bar for the night.”

“Perfect.” He sat back, exhaling slowly. “Everything’s coming together.”

Mick glanced at him, the broad shoulders nearly blocking the light from their small kitchen. “You really think this will work?”

Leonard closed his eyes and let his head sink back onto the couch.

It was hard to believe that nearly fifteen years ago, Leonard had been en route to becoming a police officer. They still wanted him, but for very different reasons. After the disaster of the cruise, things had hit the fan. The talks for the hypertrain between Star City and Central City had dissolved, though Leonard hadn’t heard much of it, being unconscious and in the hospital. Of course, he would have preferred unconsciousness to what happened afterwards.

Commissioner Lance had blamed Leonard for the death of his daughter, and when Lewis Snart refused to defend his son, Leonard had turned on him, exposing the truth of what Lewis had done. The attempted murder of his son and the successful murder of Lance’s daughter. No one believed a kid like him over his father, who had years of experience behind him. Leonard had been discharged from his dream job and subsequently barred from any form of law enforcement. Commissioner Lance had spiraled into a depression, and stepped down from his position.

And that still hadn’t been the end of it.

When the rumors of dirty cops came around, Central City Police Department had conducted a thorough investigation, that had led to them accusing a Snart. And the one who was already dishonorably discharged was so much easier to pin things on.

It was then that Leonard decided that if everyone was going to look at him as a criminal, then he’d make sure to meet their expectations. So he’d embraced the life of crime wholeheartedly, gaining money and power, and a partner in the form of Mick Rory. And Leonard was damn good at being a criminal, climbing the rungs of the criminal underworld until everyone knew his name.

And then his father had been elected commissioner.

Betraying his son, fine. Blaming him for the deaths, fine. But commissioner? That was too damn far.

Leonard couldn’t stand it any longer. He wanted -  _ needed  _ \- revenge on the man who’d ruined his life. So he’d confided what he’d needed to in order to convince Mick, and the two of them had come up with a plan to take Lewis down. Mick doing it more for the hell of it and then out of spite, when Lewis had put a bounty on their heads when he caught wind of it. It hadn’t changed their plans, but it had complicated things. They’d been forced out of Central City, taking refuge in Gotham as Leonard finished his plans. After two years of preparations, they were almost ready. They only needed one more thing to cement Lewis’s impeachment and to clear Leonard’s name.

Of course, it was the only thing they could never get.

Sara Lance herself. To have her speak out against Lewis, catching him in the first lie of his career. That would topple everything.

Leonard opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling instead of the swirling waves that haunted his nightmares. “We’ll find a girl to play the part. She can vanish after we take care of Lewis.”

“I know. But do you think this’ll work?”

Leonard stared at the small apartment, remembering the plans he’d once had for his future. The life he’d dreamed of. And though he loved Mick like a brother, this wasn’t what he wanted.

“It has to.”

* * *

Ta-er al-Sahfer wove through the crowd, ditching the black robes that she’d worn for the past fifteen years. She felt exposed, the bright sunlight uncomfortable on her shoulders. Still, she didn’t stop moving, trying to put as much distance between her and her partner as possible. Her first opportunity, she snagged a blue sweatshirt, covering the weapons that sat on her hips. They’d completed the most recent mission, and Sara had made her getaway from Nyssa while the other woman slept soundly.

Though she was grateful for what Nyssa had done, Ta-er couldn’t do it any longer. The killing didn’t use to bother her, truly. She thought it was the way things were done. But even though she couldn’t remember her name or her family or her home, she could remember innocence. And the loss of it.

She needed to escape the League of Assassins. Before the few things she remembered were gone completely.

So as they finished their mission, killing a man in Gotham City, and Ta-er was once again faced with this perpetual darkness for her future, she made her escape, her weapons and the clothes on her back the only things she’d managed to take, aside from her canary necklace. The only thing that’d survived from her previous life and the only name she’d known.

She pushed through the lunch crowd in the business district. Losing herself in the crowd was easy, it would be finding herself again that was the problem. She pushed between two men, getting a glare from the shorter one, but didn’t spare him another glance as she pushed forward towards a bar. Ta-er needed a few things and the type of people who could provide them wouldn’t be at a library at this hour.

She got a few looks coming into the bar, but no one stared long enough for Ta-er to mark them. She approached the bartender, dropping her voice.

“I need some papers.”

The bartender raised a brow, “What kinds of papers?”

Ta-er hesitated, knowing there was no going back now. “All the ones to give myself a new name.”

His brow rose higher, but he didn’t make any other comment. “I can’t do that. But I know a guy who knows a guy.”

“Where can I find your guy?” Ta-er asked, her temper beginning to fray. She reached for weapons that she shouldn’t pull here - the only way she’d been taught to deal with conflict.

But, isn’t that why she was running? Ta-er took a deep breath, uncaring that it was entirely audible to the man, and let it out slowly. She took her hands from her weapons, rubbing her palms on her thighs.

His eyes narrowed slightly, too familiar with the Gotham way of life not to recognize the movements of a dangerous person. As he saw her calm down, he spoke quickly, eager to get her out of his place. “He’s booking up Noonan’s tonight. Some sort of job he’s runnin’. But he’ll be there. Leonard Snart’s the guy you want.”

Ta-er forced a smile that was little more than bared teeth. “Where is Noonan’s?”

* * *

“...and we grew up in Star City, where Daddy became a cop and I-”

“Thanks,” Leonard cut off the poorly dyed blonde in front of him. “Thanks. That’s enough.”

The former brunette pouted, but all it did was draw attention to the too young face that would never pass for a twenty-three year old. She stomped out towards the door and Leonard turned to look at Mick. “This isn’t working.”

“She seemed fine enough.”

“She couldn’t lie to save her skin, and we need someone to save our damn skin.”

The big man shrugged, throwing back his beer, and belching quietly. “We can teach her to lie.”

Leonard sighed, rubbing his eyes. Mick was far more intuitive than people gave him credit for, but this was one way in which he wasn’t quite as learned. There were people who told the truth, people who told a lie, and people who could live a lie. He needed the last one, because anything less would never convince anyone to go against Lewis.

It wasn’t just about the words, it was about the tone, the way the face wrapped around the words, the way their hands reached out. “Fine enough” wasn’t going to cut it.

“Excuse me?”

Leonard waved away the woman who had come up behind him, ignoring her in favor of turning to Mick. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“But, boss-”

“Excuse me.”

This time his hand up was more forceful, warning whoever this was to stay the hell away from him. “We need the right person, Mick. If we don’t find her, this will all-”

“ _ Excuse me _ .”

Leonard looked up, irritation finally forcing his attention up to the annoying woman who-

The breath left his body and the retort died on his tongue. “You…”

She frowned at him, taking a half step back, seemingly out of self consciousness, her hand lifting to her waist before pausing. “What?”

The blonde hair was twisted into elaborate braids, up and off of a pale face. The lips were full, but cracked, and the lavender shadows under her eyes drew the attention away from the lines around her mouth. She was beautiful, in a very raw kind of way, but she radiated danger, a subliminal message for everyone to stay away. Though Leonard loved trouble, when it was associated with an attractive man or woman it had caused him too many problems, so he avoided them on principle. He should have turned her away immediately.

But her eyes-

For a second, he was back in that boat, and little Sara Lance was staring up at him in complete trust, utterly believing him when he said he wouldn’t let go, that she’d be okay. She believed him up until the moment he lost her, and this woman’s eyes-

But though these were the right color, they were clouded with anger, distrust, and a significant amount of fear, not possibly due to him.

No, it was just a passing fancy, but that gave him an idea.

Leonard shook his head. “Nothing. You...what do you want?”

After a moment, she spoke, staring at him with an uncomfortable intensity that would have made him fidget had he been a lesser man. “I heard you can get papers.” The accent was strange and not one that Leonard had ever heard before, not even at the Gotham docks, where he’d tasted every flavor of word.

“What kind of papers?” Mick rumbled.

The woman’s eyes darted to him briefly, dancing over him in a way that had Leonard shifting to put his gun in a more convenient position. She returned her gaze to Leonard, but answered all the same. “Ones that will give me a new name.”

“What name do you have that needs replacing?” Leonard asked, sharing a brief glance with Mick, knowing that the bigger man would catch on.

“Does that matter?” she retorted. That dangerous energy shifted to look to the door, and Leonard was all too familiar with the signs of someone running not to recognize it now. “I need a new name and a way to get me out of the...of the city. Quickly.”

Leonard sat back, knowing that if he played this right, he would walk out of here with everything he wanted. “Where are you going?”

The woman hesitated, then shrugged in a way that seemed uncomfortable. “Anywhere.”

“What’s your name?” Mick asked.

He kicked out a chair for the woman to sit in, the screech of wood across the floor not making her flinch. She glanced at it, but didn’t take the offered seat. “I do not have one that would mean anything to you.”

“Look, doll,” Leonard started, ignoring the baleful glare she shot him at the nickname. “The thing is, we kind of have our hands full here. Revenge, plots, and the like. I don’t have time to help you. What I need is a girl to help us.”

Her eyes narrowed; she was clever, this one. She knew he was trying to play her, but she wasn’t leaving. She must be desperate. The thought made Leonard’s smirk grow.

“What help do you need?” she asked lowly. The feral attitude was fading, the woman becoming more smooth and confidant as she faced him, apparently more comfortable.

Mick glanced at Leonard, uncertainty in his face. Leonard ignored him.

“I need a girl to pretend to be someone else for a few weeks. Help me take down a powerful man. She’ll have to convince a few select people of her identity, with our help. She helps us get our revenge, then she’ll walk away with a new name, new identity, and our most gracious thanks.”

“You want revenge?” she asked. “Why not just kill this man?”

The casual way which she suggested that made Leonard’s nerves flare just slightly. Still, the reward outweighed the risk, so he answered, “Death doesn’t exactly last, and I’d prefer him to suffer.”

“Perhaps you are not killing the right way.”

Mick’s pointed glare at Leonard was missed on the woman as she took the previously offered seat. If she expected that he would miss the impression of weapons at her waist, she was wrong.

She leveled those familiar-unfamiliar eyes at him and he had to fight to hold her gaze. “If I were to say that I am not the girl to help you, would you be able to get me a new name?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Leonard retorted. “It’ll be ready in a month.” When she frowned at his answer, he shrugged. “New identities take time, doll. Good product is worth waiting for.”

“And…” she glanced at her hands and Leonard followed her gaze, watching the white-knuckled grip she had on her clenched fists fade as she consciously relaxed. “And if I said I was the girl? When would we leave?”

“First thing in the morning.”

“Would this...hurt anyone?”

Now that caught him by surprise - a woman looking like that, armed like that, with eyes like that, who had casually suggested murder, worried about hurting people. “Only ones who deserve it.”

The woman stared at him for a long time, and Leonard felt like he was being weighed, assessed, gauged for...something, he didn’t know what. Eventually, she nodded. “Than I am the girl.”

Leonard smirked, sharing a glance with Mick - the big man was cautious, but both were pleased. “Great. Gather what you need and we’ll meet back here at six tomorrow.”

She stood, a fluid movement that impressed Leonard, even as it cemented the idea that they would have to watch her very carefully. “I will see you tomorrow, then.”

Leonard watched her go, curious and mildly concerned he was making a mistake. Unlikely, but possible.

“What’s your name?” Mick called again.

She paused, but didn’t turn to look at them. “My name is...whatever one you give me tomorrow.”

She left.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I'm not the creator of the original material or characters, the words are mine. :)

The train station was chaotic, bustling with people and bags in every direction. Ta-er drew her shoulders in, hating the crowds and the yelling. Despite the early morning, it was busy and loud, train engine gasping out hot air and angry noises. Ta-er stayed close behind the larger man - Mick, he’d called himself - allowing him to pave the path for her and Leonard. She’d met them at Noonan’s at six this morning. Truthfully, she’d left the bar, acquired a few changes of clothes without their previous owners’ knowledge, and returned, dozing on the fire escape until the sun began to rise.

When the gentlemen - and she used that term very loosely - returned, she was waiting for them. The smaller one had introduced himself as Leonard and the bigger one as Mick. He’d asked for her name again, and Ta-er simply held out her hand for the paperwork they should have created.

Leonard’s eyes narrowed and he held out a small blue book - a passport. She glanced at the name he’d given her.

_Dinah Drake._

Before she could read much more, Leonard pulled it back and tucked it away. Ta-er frowned at him.

“You’ll get this when we’re done.”

“I gave you my word,” Ta-er said, her voice hard.

“Great,” he said dismissively. “You’ll get it when we’re done. We’ll talk more details once we’re on the train.” He looked up at Mick, the two of them shouldering their bags once more. “Let’s go.”

Ta-er mouthed the new name silently as she fell into step behind them. Dinah Drake. Dinah. Ms. Drake.

It wasn’t right, but it felt better than Ta-er al-Sahfer.

Mick led them to a compartment near the back of the train, holding the door until Leonard and Ta-er got in, then following them in. Leonard glanced at the tickets, then at the door numbers.

“101, 102, 103...this is us. 105.” He gestured for Ta-er to go in first. She pulled her bag higher onto her shoulder and stepped in.

The room was small. A sofa along the right side, which folded down into a bed. Another bed was directly above it, attached to the wall near the ceiling. A large chair was off to the left and a tiny room in the back left corner, inside which Ta-er could see a small toilet and shower. The quarters were narrow and tight, which made her anxious, but she pushed it down, shoving her bag into a corner and taking the seat on the couch closest to the window. She ignored the sounds of Mick and Leonard moving around the room, putting their stuff away and passing papers between them. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to mark where they placed their guns. Just because she was working with them didn’t mean she trusted them.

Leonard locked the door and pulled down the shade that covered the glass window to the hallway. “Right. So, we take the train into Central City. From there, a boat to Star City. We meet with a few people, convince them that you’re Sara Lance. We make up some story as to where you’ve been. When that’s done, you’ll get Dinah Drake’s passport and our...thanks.”

Ta-er’s eyes narrowed. “When will you determine that it is done?”

“When I say.”

Ta-er leaned towards Leonard. “That’s not good enough.”

“You get a better deal since last night?” he countered, arching his brow.

She glared at him, knowing she was stuck. Irritated, she turned to look out the window, the gray streets of Gotham becoming more congested as people woke up. Mick and Leonard spoke quietly to one another and Ta-er blocked it out. Watching the people pass, families hand in hand, couples with interlocked arms, working men and women walking with a purpose and ease among the busy streets, she felt something like an ache in her chest.

The train rocked forward into motion, and Mick groaned. “I’m gonna get a drink.” He got up and left, the door sliding closed behind him.

Leonard got up from the couch and moved to the chair, glancing at something on his phone. Ta-er cast her eyes at him, taking stock of this man once again.

He was taller than her, but appeared short next to Mick. His close shaved hair was peppered with black and silver. Scarred hands and narrow shoulders - a violent nature hidden beneath tight sweaters and tighter pants. She saw their weapons and knew enough of the underbelly of every city to be well aware that these were dangerous men. But they were dangerous men who worked for themselves. And that was new to her. Mick was straightforward - money and loyalty drove him. But Leonard was more of a mystery. He had spoken of punishing people who deserved it, but was clearly using her. He was one of the first people she couldn’t get a read on, and it both irked and intrigued her.

“Will you miss it?” she asked abruptly.

Leonard paused in his scrolling, only lifting his eyes to her. “Excuse me?”

“Will you miss Gotham?” she repeated, gesturing to the window, where they were swiftly passing through the edge of the city.

He glanced back down at his phone. “Gotham City is a cesspool, and only the insane could possibly miss it.”

“But it was your home.”

“Gotham isn’t my home,” he answered without looking. “It’s a place I lived once.”

“Where is your home?” Ta-er pressed. Part of her was honestly curious and part of her knew continued talking would irritate him into doing _something_.

With a long suffering sigh, Leonard lowered his phone. “What is your obsession with my home?”

“Curiosity.”

“You know what they say about that.”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, keeping her expression blank. She adjusted her words, slipping into the language as easily as she slipped into the shadows.

He eyed her for a long moment, obviously trying to see if she was serious. “Where’s your home, doll?”

Ta-er lowered her eyes. “I don’t have one.”

“I thought everyone had a home.”

“They do. But I don’t know where I came from.”

A spark of interest finally lit behind his blue eyes and he leaned forward. “Don’t know? Or don’t care?”

“I don’t remember. I was...adopted.”

“Foster family?” His voice shifted infinitesimally. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of his tone.

“Of a sort.”

“And were they…” he trailed off, but the question he didn’t ask was clear. She knew enough of _those_ types of people to know what he was talking about.

Those types of people were almost all she knew.

“They were strict. And there are scars. But they saved me. It was never my home.”

He hummed, whatever that had opened in his gaze closing down once more as he dropped his eyes back to his phone.

Ta-er watched him for a moment, but it was clear the conversation was over. She turned her eyes back to the window, pulling her legs up to her chest and curling up. Resting her head against the glass, the vibration of the train lulling her into drowsiness. She didn’t trust them implicitly, but they needed her, meaning they wouldn’t kill her. Not yet at least. She closed her eyes, feeling comparatively safe.

“I’m from Central City.”

Leonard’s comment was unexpected and Ta-er didn’t respond or open her eyes, but she smiled faintly, and fell asleep.

* * *

Leonard lowered his phone once he heard the girl’s breathing slow. She looked tiny in her seat, wrapped in a blue sweatshirt that was clearly too large for her. The duffel bag under her feet was disconcertingly empty, except for a couples softer bundles and what were obviously a few large blades of some kind.

It was disconcerting not to know her name. Dinah was the one he’d given her, but it felt wrong. Still, it was the only thing he had to go on - and he truly meant the only thing. He’d done his research on her, but there had been nothing. No name, no history, no anything. It was as if this girl didn’t really exist.

It served his purposes perfectly, but not knowing rankled him a little.

Dinah was an unknown variable and though Leonard didn’t have a choice in the matter, he didn’t have to like it. He didn’t like taking chances on people. He didn’t like having to rely on anyone other than himself, or those who’d proven their loyalty beyond all doubt. So far, the only person who’d done that in Leonard’s entire life was Mick. He didn’t trust Dinah, but he couldn’t deny some sort of morbid fascination with her. What she did, how she spoke, how she moved. She didn’t seem to do it on purpose - or maybe she did - but Leonard recognized mirroring.

She’d watched the way they spoke and moved and mere hours later had perfected it. The faint accent she’d started with was gone. That silent, hunched movement from dark place to dark place - gone. The unnerving way she would sit without moving, the silent, too long stares, all gone. He wasn’t certain what was an act and what wasn’t, but he couldn’t deny that this girl was good.

And perhaps she’d been playing him when she mentioned the adoption and foster homes. Perhaps she’d caught a glimpse of one of his scars, doubtful, but not impossible, and used that information. Perhaps her comments about home had been rehearsed. He couldn’t tell by her words or actions, and that made him wary. His gut told him she’d been being truthful about some of it, at least, but every good liar kept a modicum of truth. He didn’t know what she was playing at and though Leonard knew the only way to win was not to play, he couldn’t help but be drawn in. There was something about her...

The door rattled and Leonard tensed, reaching for his boot knife. However, Mick came in and Leonard immediately relaxed.

“Problem, boss.” Mick shut and locked the door behind him, his eyes gleaming with what Leonard recognized as the eagerness of a potential fight.

Leonard’s tension returned in full. “What is it?”

“Half the GCPD new recruits are on this train. Some kind of training or something. But they’re here and running some drill. They’re checking everything,” Mick muttered.

Leonard swore. Their tickets would hold up, but their IDs, not to mention their mugshots from Central City…

“They’re in the first class carriage now,” Mick said. “But they’re heading this way.”

“We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Baggage car is off limits,” he suggested. “It’s locked, but-”

“I can handle that.” Leonard glanced at the door. “Grab your stuff.”

Mick grabbed both of their bags and Leonard leaned over to wake Dinah. He grabbed her shoulder, “Doll, we-”

She rose in a smooth motion, a blade coming out from the thin air to press against his throat before her eyes met his. For a breath, they both stood there, frozen in a near deadly moment.

“Oh,” she said, lowering her hand and returning the blade to her side. “Sorry.” It wasn’t a convincing apology and Leonard’s irritation rose.

Mick grinned, “Nice moves, Blondie.”

Leonard glared at the two of them. “Grab your stuff. We have to move.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, doing as he said, even as she questioned him.

“A complication.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of complication?”

“The unavoidable kind.” Leonard turned away from her and glanced out the shade of their door. No sign of police blues anywhere. A drill meant they would do what’s necessary, but probably no more than that. If they could make it there, they’d be fine. He opened the door and waved Mick out, gesturing for Dinah to follow quietly. She did, that silent movement returning and Leonard felt a little more information slip into place.

He brought up the rear after making sure they’d left nothing behind. The hallway to the baggage car was empty; luckily they’d booked a car near the back of the train. Mick kept an eye out while Leonard popped off the lock pad and stripped the appropriate wires. Dinah watched over his shoulder as he worked and though Leonard wanted to snap at her to back off, he held his tongue and got the door to open.

Immediately, the three of them were hit with a blast of cold air. The baggage cart wasn’t connected by a covered walkway like the other carriages. There was an actual gap between their platform and the one leading to the next carriage. Leonard immediately stepped across, easily balancing between the moving cars and began pulling out the next lock pad. Dinah came after him, and Mick returned the former lock to a semblance of function before closing the door and leaving them trapped outside.

“So much for your plan,” the girl remarked over his shoulder.

Leonard glared at her, the door sliding open and he stepped through quickly, turning to face her as she entered, pushing her hair out of her face.

“I work with the information I’m given, doll. Not my fault GCPD decided to do something asinine at the last minute,” Leonard snapped, seeing Mick pull the door shut on his way in. He exhaled, some of the tension disappearing once they were relatively safe.

The baggage car was simple and not nearly as heated. All the bags were strapped along the sides, leaving a narrow walkway to the back. He noticed Mick shivering, but Dinah didn’t seem to be affected at all. Leonard dropped his bag in the corner, leaning against a slightly more comfortable looking duffel bag. “Should we expect any more surprises?” he asked, mostly rhetorically, but Mick answered nonetheless.

“Didn’t see anything else. Just the cops. A bunch of foreigners in first class. Going to a funeral or something.”

“What?”

Leonard looked over at Dinah as she spoke up, her eyes intent on Mick. Mick blinked back at her, frowning. “Bunch of foreigners.”

“Funeral?”

Mick elaborated, “They were all wearing black. Someone must have died.”

“How many?” she asked, going to her bag, two blades appearing in her hands.

“Dunno. Four. Five?” Mick asked, tensing at her tone.

She cursed, then went to the door, putting her back to the wall and glancing out through the window.

“Doll?” Leonard murmured, pulling his own weapon and gesturing for MIck to do the same. “Who are they?”

“Bad news,” she whispered.

Leonard went to the other side of the door, nodding at Mick to move to the back.

He couldn’t hear her breathing any longer and held his own breath, listening intently. He watched the window, but followed her gaze as she looked up. There was a subtle tap on the roof, little more than a heartbeat.

“What do they want?” Leonard breathed, already knowing what she was going to say.

She sighed, glancing at him with a faint expression of grief. Her hands were white-knuckled around her blades and his heart thumped nervously in his chest.

She whispered back, “Me.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual rules.

Ta-er exhaled slowly, silently, staring at the ceiling as at least two walked across the top of the carriage. She should have counted on this. She should have known they wouldn’t let her go.

She should’ve known there was no escape.

Leonard was tense next to her, not moving even when a shadow passed in front of the door, a faint rattle at the knob indicating the attempt to get inside. Mick stepped towards them, but Leonard gestured for Mick to stay back. The big guy hesitated, but nodded, standing behind the baggage in the back, not visible to Ta-er and Leonard.

Leonard raised his brows at Ta-er, but she held up her hand for him to wait.

A shatter of glass and the window broke by the base. Leonard raised his arm, but she shook her head at him. He glared, but continued to hold back.

There was a moment and Ta-er knew the assassin was looking through the window, trying to find them. A black-robed hand came through the broken glass, reaching for the handle. As the hand wrapped around the handle and pulled it down, Ta-er moved.

She grabbed the hand and handle in one, yanking the door open and forcing the assassin off balance and into the carriage. With her free hand, she shoved her blade up through the bottom of his jaw before he could do much more than widen his eyes. He slumped in with a gurgle and Ta-er pulled the body inside, closing the door and wedging the body against it to keep it closed.

Leonard’s eyes were wide and his gun was in his hand, wavering somewhere between aiming at the dead man and aiming at her.

It was just a breath, but Ta-er paused, waiting for Leonard to take the shot. She wouldn’t blame him. Her heart pounded in her ears and she wondering if she’d traded one death for her own.

Then something broke in the back of the carriage and Mick cursed loudly. Leonard looked away from her and down towards his partner.

Before they could move, glass shattered down from above and both Leonard and Ta-er ducked, covering their heads. Three figures dropped down in front of them, silver and leather, black and robed.

Leonard stepped up shoulder to shoulder with Ta-er, his strange gun drawn and whirring, her blades bloodied already. From beyond the figures, they could hear the sounds of Mick fighting and Ta-er knew they would have to fight their way through. Three League assassins and only a couple of small time crooks on her side? She wasn’t optimistic about their chances.

Leonard glanced at her, “You’re not gonna stick a knife in me, are you, doll?”

“You have my word.”

He smirked, “That’ll have to do.” Then he shouted down to his partner, “Light them up, Mick!”

A spire of flame exploded from the back of the carriage and Ta-er’s eyes opened wide. She couldn’t spare a glance for Leonard, but even in their short time, she knew him well enough to imagine the look of smug arrogance on his face.

The assassins were too well trained to flinch.

She recognized the three that faced her and Leonard, the one in the center was Abd al Qadir. A truly faithful servant, as he’d demonstrated by plucking out his own eye in repayment for failing the Demon.

“You are a fool, Ta-er al-Sahfer,” Abd al Qadir said from the center. “Did you think we would not be watching the trains? You are a true disappointment.”

Ta-er didn’t blink, staring down the one on the left. Ta-er could vaguely place her...Nyssa and she had always referred to her as Curare, due to her penchant for poison in addition to the usual blades. She was the danger here. “Take the one of the right,” she murmured to Leonard.

“And the other two?”

“Mine.”

“You were rumored to be the greatest of us,” Qadir continued. “So talented, so special. So important. So much...better. It is unfortunate that you are instead a traitor. A betrayer. A true disappoi-”

A blast of freezing air shot out from next to her and Qadir screamed, his sentence cut off. As the mist cleared, Ta-er saw that Qadir’s leg from the knee down was encased in ice, the floor in front of the assassins slick.

“Sorry,” Leonard said with a smirk, “did I interrupt your speech?”

Qadir snarled, bringing his blade down on the ice, shearing off a thin sheet.

Ta-er lunged forward, sliding on the slick floor on her knees, bringing her sword up towards Curare. The other woman dodged, and Ta-er barely missed being scratched by her dagger. Twisting, she threw her own dagger, embedding it in a suitcase next to Curare’s head, grabbing a few strands of black hair in the process.

Ta-er spun around the suitcases, coming out on the other side. Qadir was still trapped, Curare coming after her. Leonard was facing down the third, ice crusting along the assassin’s arm and his hand hanging limply at his side. Fire exploded from behind her, letting her know Mick was still alive as of the moment.

“Nyssa is furious,” Curare whispered. “You abandoned her. Betrayed her.”

Ta-er lost herself in another stack of suitcases, listening for Curare’s voice.

“You turned on the League. Your family.”

She clutched her sword tightly, holding her breath.

“You do not deserve to live.”

Ta-er turned, facing Curare head on, coming up low and forcing the assassin back. Curare frowned, doing her best to defend, but Ta-er knew what Qadir had already said. She was the greatest of them.

She grabbed Curare’s dagger from her waist, glancing back as the shatter of ice echoed in the room. A hard knock to her head paid her back for her inattention.

Ta-er stumbled back, counting herself lucky that it was the hilt of Curare’s blade rather than the poisoned edge. She darted back towards Leonard, seeing the edge of Qadir’s robe disappear out the door. The body of the first assassin lay limp to the side.

Leonard had the third assassin on the ground, encased in ice from the waist down and slowly wrapping around his ribs. He glanced up at Ta-er as she came around the corner. “Other guy ran out. And the girl-”

His eyes widened and Ta-er twisted, barely avoiding Curare’s sword. Throwing herself forward, she threw the hand holding the dagger upwards, hearing the tear of fabric. Rolling out of the way, she was prone on her back when she looked up, Curare standing in front of her. Her sleeve was ripped and a small cut was on the inside of her wrist.

Curare smiled, ignoring the small injury. “You must know you will not survive.”

Ta-er simply raised the dagger in her hand up for Curare to look at. The woman’s eyes turned fearful as she recognized her own poisoned blade.

“No…”

The carriage lurched, sending Curare sprawling and Ta-er rolling across the ground. The door to the adjoining carriage swung open. Qadir was grinning on the opposite carriage, with a gap widening between them.

“He detached the carriage!” Leonard shouted, somehow keeping his footing. The distance between the two carriages kept growing and Ta-er cursed when she saw Qadir’s plan.

“The interchange, he’s going to send us off on the other track,” Ta-er said, ignoring Curare’s labored breathing and the moans of the frozen man on the ground. There was a barrier on the other track, but it wouldn’t stop their carriage, not with as fast as they were going.

A slump from the back revealed that Mick had taken care of his opponent as well. He slung his gun over his shoulder, glancing at the scene in front of him as he walked over. “Now what?”

Leonard holstered his weapon as well, looking around the cart. “Mick, the brake.”

The big man nodded, grasping the hand brake and pulling it with a grunt. But they were going too fast. Ta-er clung to the wall and watched helplessly as Qadir switched the interchange. “Where does that go?”

“Bridge. Track isn’t finished,” Leonard muttered, holding onto the door next to her.

“Of course.” She flinched as the brake broke, Mick stumbling to the side. “We have to stop it.”

“Emergency chain back there,” Mick said, jerking his thumb towards the back.

Leonard immediately headed back, calling over his shoulder, “Mick.”

He made to follow, but flinched, pressing his hand to his side. Ta-er frowned when she saw a smear of blood on his fingers. “Mick-”

“It’s fine. I’ve gotta-” He trailed off and shook his head wearily.

“Get our things. I’ll help Leonard.”

He wanted to argue, it was obvious, but they both knew he didn’t have a choice.

Ta-er hurried towards the back, the door open and letting in a cold wind, the floor and walls scorched. She saw Leonard hanging out the back of the train, the chain clanking next to him as he tied it off to something under the carriage. Ta-er heard him curse and saw his hand grasping for a piece of burned wood, but it gave beneath his fingers. She lunged down and grabbed his wrist, pulling him up.

The look on his face would have been comical if they weren’t careening to their deaths. “You...Where’s Mick?”

“Busy.”

Together, they dropped the chain behind them, the hook grabbing onto a piece of the track.

“Hang on to something!” Leonard shouted. He grabbed Ta-er's arm, pulling her towards the wall. They clung to the netting of the suitcases, bracing themselves, his arm around her back and pressing her against the netting. He glanced over at her, in the moment of quiet, his mouth by her ear. “If we live through this, remind me to thank you.” The chain threaded out the door, until there was almost nothing left.

Ta-er held her breath-

The carriage lurched painfully, slowing slightly, then something cracked, the wheels twisting to the side. There was a horrific screech as the wheels went off the track and the carriage began to tilt, going completely off kilter.

“We have to jump!” Mick announced, handing their bags over.

Ta-er eyed the surging ground outside with trepidation, but there was no other option. She pulled her bag over her shoulder and gritted her teeth. Mick didn’t wait for a response from either of them, jumping out of the back. He rolled, coming to a stop a few feet away from the tracks.

Ta-er glanced at Leonard, who grabbed her arm, “Come on, doll.”

Together, they jumped out of the train, leaving Curare and the assassins behind.

* * *

Leonard hit the ground painfully, not rolling as well as he should have, his shoulder wrenching to the side as his bag pulled. Still, he managed to come to a stop, the ground beneath him cold and unforgiving. He’d feel those bruises tomorrow.

When he found his bearings, he was a few feet away from Mick, who was on his feet, but hunched over. Leonard’s breath expelled when he saw the blood on his shirt. “Mick-”

He grinned, “One of those vipers got a lucky shot.”

“We’ve gotta get that cleaned up,” Leonard insisted. Thankfully, Mick had the foresight to grab their things. He had a first aid kit in his bag; necessary, considering their line of work. Pulling the bag open, he got out the bandages and passed them to his partner. “Get into the tree line first.”

With a nod, Mick started towards the trees, away from the tracks. “Be interesting to hear her story on all that.”

Leonard eyed Dinah as she got to her feet. “Yes, it will.”

His hand on his gun, but keeping it in his holster, he stalked towards Dinah. She didn’t look up at him as he approached, but he could see from the tension in her shoulders that she knew he was there.

“So, did you ever think to mention,” Leonard said, finally drawing her gaze, “that a cadre of ninjas might be on your tail?”

She leaned down to grab her bag and Leonard’s hand tightened on his cold gun.

“Talk, doll.” When she hesitated, he added lowly, “Now.”

If he hadn’t seen what she’d just done, he might have thought that Dinah might have been about to cry. Her face dropped, her eyes lost their glow, her hands started to shake. “Can we...let’s get into the trees.”

Leonard gestured for her to go first. When she reached for her bag again, he grabbed it first, the heavy swing of the weapons inside of it almost throwing him off balance. “Allow me.”

She shrugged, listless and Leonard was finding it nearly impossible to reconcile this Dinah with the one he’d just seen fighting for her life. Their lives.

They got into the relative safety of the trees, near where Mick was perched on a stump. He’d pulled his shirt up above the wound and was wrapping it up. He eyed the two of them as they approached with a pained grin. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

Leonard didn’t smile, his eyes still on Dinah. “Talk.”

Again, with that broken look. He didn’t think it was an act, but he also didn’t think she was a damn ninja.

“They’re called the League of Assassins,” she said hollowly. “It’s who I’ve been with all my life.”

He scoffed, shaking his head and sharing an incredulous look with Mick. “Assassins? And why do they want you?”

“Because I ran away. No one leaves.” Her arms came up to wrap around herself and it was perhaps the most vulnerable he’d ever seen her.

“You expect me to believe that?”

She looked up at him, with a half-hearted shrug. “If I was lying, why wouldn’t I choose something more believable?”

“Got a point there, boss.” Mick grunted, getting to his feet. “What’d that guy call you? Tara Saffron?”

She looked up at Mick, respect in her eyes. “Ta-er al-Sahfer. It was the name they gave me. It’s a kind of bird.”

Leonard swore, walking away a few paces before returning. “And they’ll be back?”

“Yes.” Her eyes dropped again. “They won’t stop.”

“Dammit.” Leonard turned to Mick, who simply shrugged.

“Like you said, boss, we don’t have much of a choice. Put up with some ninjas for a few weeks. We handled them just fine. Then we split anyway. Who was that Nyssa they mentioned?”

“A former lover.”

Angry and frustrated, Leonard walked away from both of them, churning it all over in his mind. They were already on the move. She already knew most of the plan. And she was the only convincing Sara they’d met in weeks. If the assassins came again, at least he knew Dinah could put up a fight. And there was nothing to say that the assassins wouldn’t pursue him and Mick even if they parted now. They were already here, might as well keep going.

“Fine,” he said. “Fine. We keep going. It’s a two day walk to Central City. Stay away from the tracks. Stay away from the towns. We won’t make it easy on your buddies. Let’s go.”

Dinah got to her feet, turning away from him to pick up the bag he’d tossed next to her earlier. Now that he wasn’t quite as pissed, Leonard noticed the dark stain on the crown of her head. With a muttered curse, he took his bag from Mick and dropped back to walk with Dinah.

He passed a gauze pad over to her. “You’re bleeding.” He gestured to the back of her head when she just stared at him.

Dinah reached back up, pulling back her hand to stare at the red, but made no move to clean it.

“Ta-er, was it?” he pressed.

She shook her head. “Please don’t call me that. I don’t want to be...I don’t want that name anymore.”

“Doll, then.” Leonard sighed. “That was the family you mentioned?”

She nodded. “They saved me. They trained me. They raised me. And now they own me.”

“Why’d you leave?”

She glanced at her hands, bloodied from the assassins, from her own blood. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I don’t want to be owned.” She took in a quavering breath. “But I’m...sorry. I didn’t want you to get involved in this.”

He shrugged. He appreciated the apology, but it’s not like it would change anything. “And now, will they bring you back?” he asked. He wasn’t sure why he cared. Why he wanted to know at all, but he couldn’t help the question.

“They’ll try.”

It was said in a strange way, not flippant, not confidant, just stated. He glanced up at her and was simultaneously relieved and concerned to see that spark back in her eye, especially as she elaborated.

“They won’t bring me in alive. I won’t let them.”

“You don’t mean-”

“I would rather die than be back with them. I will not let them use me again like that. I won’t let anyone use me again like that, not to hurt people. And,” she stopped and faced him, her hands still, her voice strong, her eyes steady on him, “if it comes down to it, I’ll thank you to remember that. If they come and they’re winning, if it looks like they’ll take me and you have a shot, don’t hesitate.”

Leonard stared down at her, once again surprised and annoyed at the fact. “Doll, I don’t think-”

“Please.”

The words were drawn out of him as she stared up at him. “I never hesitate.”

The relief on her face at such a morbid promise was wrong, it sat strangely in his stomach. Despite the complications she’d created, despite the fact that most times he couldn’t stand her, he found that he-

“Let’s go, boss,” Mick shouted back at them. “I’m not spending a minute more than I have to out here. I friggin’ hate camping.”

Dinah picked up her pace and Leonard brought up the back, his eyes on his companions without really seeing them.

What had he just promised?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys. I was at San Diego Comic Con and had a wonderful time. But you don't care about that - here's a chapter!

Leonard woke up slowly, his shoulders aching from sleeping on the hard floor of the container. He was too old for this.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse on their late afternoon jaunt through the woods, rain pouring down in torrential slices, sending the three of them slipping and sliding, completely drenched in minutes. Giving into basic creature comforts seemed to be the only way keep Mick from going into a rampage, so they beelined it back to the tracks and lucked out when they found an old, abandoned carriage. Leonard had taken the first watch, and woken Dinah up a few hours later for her turn. Frozen, because though he’d changed out of the wet clothes, the weather was still cold, he’d managed only a paltry few hours of restless sleep, but it was better than nothing.

Looking now, he was annoyed to see that she was still in the same position she’d been in when he went to sleep and Mick was still snoring away.

“Doll, do you not understand what turns mean?” he grumbled, getting to his feet with a groan and a stretch. He kicked Mick’s legs, waking up the large man.

Dinah merely looked over her shoulder at the two of them. “It’s fine. I wasn’t tired.”

The shadows under her eyes begged to differ, but Leonard wasn’t in a mood to press the issue. “Move, Mick. Time to go.”

“Mornin’? What happened to taking watch?” Mick grunted, his shoulders cracking as he got to his feet.

“Ask her,” Leonard muttered, gathering up the coat he’d used as a pathetic excuse for a pillow. There was a sweatshirt on the ground - he must have knocked it off of him when he got up, but it wasn’t his. He picked it up and stared at it for a moment.

Dinah came by and grabbed it without comment, pulling it over her shoulders and grabbing her bag. “So where are we heading now?”

“Central City,” Mick said, shouldering his bag and tossing Leonard his. “We can get there tonight if we hurry.”

“We’d better,” Leonard added. “Boat leaves in the morning.”

Dinah hopped out of the carriage and made a face as she landed in the mud. “How long until we get there?” She lifted one foot out and Leonard could see her weighing the effort of cleaning her boot off against the field of muddy terrain that faced them. With an annoyed sigh, she walked forward without cleaning and for some reason, he found the whole moment almost endearing.

Long way from the assassin of yesterday.

“Seven hours of walking or so. Long enough.” He hopped out of the carriage, stepping forward quickly so as to avoid the spatter of Mick’s landing.

“Long enough for what?” she asked, eyes narrowing as she looked back.

“To get you up to speed with what you’ve gotta know.”

She allowed him to catch up, “You know I’m a trained assassin, skilled in the ways of infiltrating every type of organization and building.”

“But can you recall every character from the  _ Beetlejuice  _ television series?” Leonard asked. “Because that was her favorite show. Can you name her father, sister, and mother and their corresponding careers? Her grandparents? Her uncle? Her sister’s boyfriend?”

Dinah’s silence was answer enough, but Leonard needed to prove his point. “This isn’t wham-bam-thank you ma’am kind of mission, doll. It’s not enough to get in and out. You need to be seen. You need to be known. Recognized. And for that, you have to learn everything there is to know about her.”

“Sara Lance,” Dinah said, turning over the name in her mouth.

“Right.” Leonard cleared his throat and took the lead, lecturing as he walked. “First things first, her birthday was December 25, 1987, and she hated sharing it with Christmas.”

“Pay attention,” Mick rumbled quietly to Dinah. “He hates repeating himself.”

“When was her birthday again?” Dinah immediately asked.

Leonard ignored that and continued forward into what was a very long morning.

 

* * *

 

“Again.”

Ta-er bit back her sigh, knowing it would get her nothing but a glare from Leonard. “I was born on December 25, 1987. My parents are Quentin and Dinah Lance. My sister is Laurel. My favorite movie is  _ Mulan  _ and her favorite-”

“Pronouns,” he interrupted, not even bothering to watch her.

“ _ My _ favorite food is pizza. My parents divorced in 1996, shortly after the boat I was on with my father sank. My favorite color is blue. I-”

Leonard shook his head and Ta-er bristled. “Did I get something wrong?”

“No, you got everything right,” he said, sounding as if the opposite were true.

“Then why-”

“Because you sound like you’re reciting a bunch of facts.”

“I am,” she snapped. It had been three hours of this nonsense and she was tired of it. She was tired of listening to Leonard talk, and though she was still remembering every piece of inane trivia he threw at her, it didn’t seem to be enough for him.

“You have to do more. You have to feel it. You have to believe it.” They’d stopped, and despite the cloudy grey of the sky, Ta-er was beginning to see red.

“I’m trying.” The words came out in biting syllables, the temper that Ras had always punished her for coming out.

“You need to act the part, doll, otherwise this is never going to sell.”

“I’m trying!” she repeated.

“Then try harder!” he shouted.

She stepped forward, words flying from her lips and she prayed they hurt him. “I can remember all the facts, Leonard. Her birthday and her dad’s badge number, and the canary on Christmas, and when her parents divorced, but I can’t act like I know what it’s like, because I don’t!”

She stalked away from him, desperately needing some space. He couldn’t begin to understand. She couldn’t talk about how it felt to have a sister when all she’d had was competition. How could she remember home with longing when the only home she’d known was a constant state of vigilance lest one of her family put a knife in her back? How could she discuss a life full of love when all she’d known was the adrenaline-fuelled passion she’d had with Nyssa, that lacked in anything of substance, because how could anyone truly love a girl who didn’t even know who she was?

The League had always told her she was nothing more than what they made her into, and now that she was running from that, was she anything at all?

Steps approached her and she tensed, ready to tell Leonard where he could stick his orders.

But when she turned, it wasn’t Leonard next to her. It was Mick. Startled, because they hadn’t shared many more than a few words, Ta-er kept her comment to herself and waited.

A couple moments of silence, then Mick spoke. “You gotta cut the boss some slack. He doesn’t quite get it. He had a mostly normal childhood. Lewis was always an ass, smacking ’round his wife and kids, but they had a house. Celebrated Christmas. Normal enough. Turned to shit when he got older, but he at least remembers it. And he’s always been good with the act. Acting like he’s tough. Like he’s got everything under control. Like he ain’t listening to everything I’m saying.”

Ta-er looked up to see Leonard rolling his eyes, and walking away from them a little further. She doubted he was out of earshot, but he made some effort. The abuse...it wasn’t surprising, considering how he acted, how he’d responded when she mentioned her family. Her heart, not nearly as inactive as it should have been, twisted a little for him.

Mick continued talking, his voice low and detached. “But you an’ me, Blondie, we don’t got that. We don’t got the memories to pull on and use. You’ve got a shit foster family and mine all died when I was young.”

She hadn’t known. She hadn’t asked. “Mick…”

“Don’t go soft on me, just giving the facts.”

“But you’re right. I don’t have anything to pull from. So how can I do this?” she responded quietly, hoping against hope Leonard wasn’t hearing this. “I don’t want to let you...I don’t want to screw this up.”

“You’re smart, Blondie. You felt sorry for me a second ago when I told you ‘bout my folks. You can picture it. So imagine being little Sara Lance an’ havin’ some of that happy life. You don’t have to remember, you don’t have to feel it, not for real. You just gotta pretend.”

Her silence made it clear she wasn’t sure she could do that, so Mick continued.

“That shit with those assassins, was it spur of the minute you decided to run?”

“No. It had to be planned, otherwise I would’ve been caught much quicker.”

“So you were planning it for a while, then?” he asked.

The answer was obvious, so she remained silent, frowning at the ground as she caught where he was going.

“But you pretended that you didn’t care what they were doing. You pretended you were fine.” He stopped for a moment. “And your gal, Nessa, whatever. You pretended from her, too, didn’t you?”

Ta-er looked up at Mick, surprised. It wasn’t often she underestimated people, but she’d underestimated him. With a new and overdue respect in her voice, Ta-er nodded. “Yes. She didn’t know I was going to leave.”

“That’s one hell of an act you pulled, Blondie.” He nodded towards Leonard, who was still turned away from them. “He may be an ass, but he thinks you can do this. I think you can do this. You’re a goddamn ninja, who just took out a bunch of actual assassins. Playing pretend is gonna be cake.”

The blatant honesty in his face made Ta-er’s breath catch. The League had believed she could kill, they’d believed she was productive, they believed she was useful, but no one had ever actually believed in her. And Mick wasn’t laying on the flattery - he was too blunt for that. These were just facts to him. Had it been anything else, Ta-er might not have stepped forward and caught him in a hug. It was just so unexpected. For both of them.

Mick hesitated for a moment, then one big hand came up and patted her on the shoulder. “Knock it off, I don’t even like you.” But he didn’t push her away.

She smiled to herself, the expression lost amid Mick’s chest. Then she pulled away and looked up at Mick, the big guy trying to hide the lift at the corner of his mouth.

Ta-er drew back her shoulders and caught up to Leonard again. He watched her from the corner of his eye, not saying anything.

There wouldn’t be any apologies between the two of them.

“My name’s Sara,” she started quietly, keeping her eyes forward. “I was separated from my family when I was eight, and my memory’s been kind of shaky. But I remember Star City, and the apartment we lived in, me, my parents, and Laurel. I hated that I was born on Christmas, because it always felt like I was getting cheated. Every other kid got a birthday and Christmas, and I only got one. It was never just about me, which is probably why I was always getting into trouble. I wanted things to be about me.”

She paused, looking over at Leonard.

“Good,” was all he said, but the nod and faint smile were better. “Keep going.”

She could do this.

 

* * *

 

It was far later than Leonard had planned when they stumbled into Central City. They’d tried to flag down a ride, but he knew chances were slim with Mick along. People made snap judgments about him, which weren’t always incorrect, considering he was a convicted felon with a penchant for arson, but still.

They walked on through the city and Leonard could feel the tug at his chest at being so close to Lisa and his home, but not being able to see her. Lewis kept tabs on her, not to watch out for her, but to keep Leonard away from her. Still, despite not feeling welcome, this was his city and he knew where to go. One of his old safehouses had been prepared for their arrival, and he found the key in the hollow brick outside the old factory. Clicking the padlock open, he slid the heavy metal door to the side, getting Mick and Dinah inside before shutting and locking the door behind them.

“Cots against the wall over there. Bathroom in the back. Can’t promise how much hot water there is, but it’s clean,” he said, dropping his bag next to his cot.

“I’ll shower in the mornin’,” Mick mumbled. “I’m done.” And with that, Mick flopped onto his cot and almost immediately began snoring.

Leonard shook his head, impressed with Mick’s ability to fall asleep so easily. He looked up, seeing Dinah hesitating next to her cot. “Go for it, doll. Cold water doesn’t bother me.”

There was a faint smile, though he wasn’t sure if it was for him or for the thought of a shower. She headed towards the bathroom without another word and he heard the water start up. Leaning against the wall, Leonard pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, exhaustion close to taking him. Still, there were preparations to make.

A few bags were beside the door - deliveries he’d ordered. Checking through them, he packed a couple of them into his bag, more than he’d anticipated, but after seeing Dinah’s supplies, he figured he’d need to be more prepared.

The water stopped and Leonard grabbed a change of clothes, anxious to get the mud off himself and get into bed as soon as possible. He was waiting outside the bathroom when the door opened.

Dinah didn’t seem surprised to see him. The warm flush to her cheeks made the bruising under her eyes look darker. Her hair was clean and, most startlingly, completely unbraided. It was longer and blonder than Leonard expected and she pulled it over her shoulder uncomfortably as Leonard eyed her.

“The League...it was required,” she said quietly, looking past him to Mick.

He nodded. “Looks nice.”

Another one of those quick smiles. They were becoming more frequent. Unsure of how to continue, he moved past her, something sitting strangely on his shoulders. Realizing what it was, he looked back at her as she headed towards her cot.

“Doll, I-” he stopped, drawing up short at the sight of Dinah’s back, revealed by the gray tank top she was wearing and her hair pulled to the side. Scars crisscrossed her back, some thin and made by some kind of blade. Some thick and raised - a rope? A...whip? Pock marks and burns, every manner of mark decorated the expanse of skin he could see and he was willing to bet those marks continued.

Dinah looked back at him, her eyes narrowing as he remained quiet. The smile faded and her chin lifted. He recognized that look - that disgust at the thought of pity. He’d worn that exact look too many times to recount. He wouldn’t make her go through that, too.

He schooled his voice. “I wanted to thank you for the sweatshirt last night. You didn’t need to do that.”

This caught her by surprise and she frowned. “Oh.”

“But thanks,” he added.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for what you did, with the League. I...wasn’t expecting that.”

Wasn’t expecting them to attack? Or wasn’t expecting Mick and him to help? Either way, he responded with a nod. “Goodnight, doll.”

“Goodnight, Leonard.”

She turned away from him and he tore his gaze from her back, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

It was only a long time later, once he was in bed and listening to the quiet breathing of Mick and Dinah, that Leonard realized he had never mentioned Sara getting a canary on Christmas. But he fell asleep and the thought faded away into dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! Back at work and it's throwing off my groove. Here's a nice long chapter for you.

It wasn’t until they were aboard the boat that Leonard breathed a sigh of relief. It had been close there for a while. He wasn’t certain they were going to make it. But here they were.

The ship wasn’t anything fancy. A repurposed cargo ship that specialized in the transportation of those who wished to travel under the radar. It wasn’t official, it was barely legal, but it was functional and exactly what Leonard needed. However, eyeing some of the other passengers, sour faces glaring suspiciously at everyone who came aboard, Leonard realized he’d have to keep an eye on both of his companions if they wanted to avoid trouble.

They’d been kept above decks for the first few hours, given a brief tour of the common areas, while the crew took the ship out of the harbor and onto the ocean. A little annoyed, Leonard took a while to acclimate to the swaying of the ship, while Dinah appeared to adjust immediately. Mick never adjusted to anything, forcing everyone else to get out of his way as he tipped and rolled with the ship. Eventually, around lunchtime, they were allowed to head below to their rooms. 

The three of them were sharing a room, but it was far better than what they had the past two nights. There were no windows, so the room felt quite close, but Leonard ignored it. Mick dropped his stuff in the corner, on the top bunk of one bed. Dinah went to the opposite side of the room, where there was a small pallet.

“I’ll take the floor,” Leonard said, gesturing towards the bunk. “Take that.”

“I can-”

“He doesn’t do nice often,” Mick said. “Take advantage of it.”

Dinah’s quick smile lasted a little longer than normal, not aimed at Leonard, but she nodded just the same and placed her bag on the bottom bunk.

With an obnoxiously loud stretch and groan, Mick straightened up to his full height, then headed towards the door. “I’m gonna find a drink.”

“This isn’t a cruise,” Dinah said.

“But it’s a ship. They should have rum, right?” Mick frowned at her.

Her smile reappeared. “Perhaps. If you find some, bring it back.”

He chuckled. “Done.”

The heavy door shut behind him as he lumbered into the hallway. Leonard took a few moments to unpack, his belongings as well as his thoughts sliding into the appropriate places.

He hadn’t forgotten Dinah’s wayward comment about the canary. He just wasn’t sure what it meant. Had she overheard something? But from whom? Surely no one they’d encountered in the past few days. He’d known that fact, had he mentioned it and forgotten? Unlikely.

So, the most worrisome and most likely: was this woman planted? Was this all an act? Had she studied Sara Lance’s life and put herself in his path intentionally?

He lifted his eyes to see Dinah unpacking her things, engrossed in placing a knife below her pillow and tucking her bag beneath the bunk. She caught Leonard looking at her and arched a brow, tucking a piece of her unbraided hair behind her ear. “Is everything okay?”

Perhaps he was a fool, but he trusted Dinah. It was absurd - he barely knew her, he didn’t even know her name, and everything about her past should’ve steered him far away from her. Hell, his own instinct upon first meeting her was to send her on her way.

And yet…

“Everything’s fine, doll.” He grabbed the bag he’d taken from the safe house the night before and tossed it to her. “Here. I got this for you.”

She caught it with a frown. “What is it?”

He almost shrugged, suddenly unsure if he should’ve done this. “I thought-I had ordered these-”

Having opened the bag, she looked up with surprise and a faint curl to her lip. “A dress?”

“You have a reputation to portray and with what you have-” he started to explain.

“What’s wrong with what I have?” she interrupted, the humor fading from her eyes.

“Nothing, but I thought-” When had this started to spiral?

“That new clothes would sell the lie?”

With a frustrated and forced laugh, Leonard threw his hand up. “Forget it. I’m getting a drink with Mick. Try not to get into trouble.” He walked out of the room, trying to remember why he made an effort.

It took a few minutes for Leonard to reach the galley, using his ears to follow the sounds of voices as his legs betrayed him. There were several long tables lined up, with chairs that were bolted to the ground. Leonard was painfully reminded of a prison mess hall, and had to shake his head to clear his mind.

Mick had found a table in the corner and a bottle was on the table in front of him. Leonard took a seat next to him, able to eye the rest of the room.

“Everything alright?” Mick asked, the smirk on his face making it clear he knew otherwise.

Leonard grabbed the bottle and took a long drink. Mick just chuckled.

“Shut up,” Leonard muttered, passing the bottle back. He pulled a small book out of his pocket, pretending to read, but really looking at the room.

There were several other groups of passengers, trios and duos, a few single passengers hovering in corners. This was the largest area, clearly meant to be the spot for gathering if the quarters felt cramped. Soon, nearly every table was occupied, a fair number of empty seats still there, but most of the passengers clearly here to relax. Eventually the meals came out, a simple buffet of sandwiches and chips. Mick went up and grabbed some for him and Leonard, who kept their spot at the table, and an eye on the others.

Which is how he saw the door open. Dinah slipped into the room, her hair loose around her shoulders, but that wasn’t what caught his eye.

She was wearing the dress.

It was a cobalt blue, something that caught his eye long before he’d chosen the girl to play the part. His favorite color. It wasn’t anything fancy. Simple, belted at the waist, short sleeves. But on Dinah…

She saw him in the corner and walked over, inadvertently drawing the attention of several other passengers. Biting down the desire to take his annoyance out on Dinah - it wasn’t her fault she was one of the only women on the ship - he nodded as she took a seat across from him.

“Hi,” she said shortly.

“Hello.”

She glared at him, then away, her hand raising to her hair in a nervous gesture. She was clearly uncomfortable, but here she was, making an effort despite her earlier annoyance with him. He had to hand it to her, Dinah was constantly surprising him. In both good and bad ways, but still. He wasn’t entirely certain which way this surprise leaned just yet, looking at the faces of some of the other passengers, but he appreciated the effort.

“You look nice,” he murmured, just before Mick returned with food. The big guy greeted her easily, dropping enough sandwiches on the table for all three of them, then began to complain about the lack of choices.

Over Mick’s complaining, Leonard passed a sandwich over to Dinah. She took it with a quiet thank you, then smiled at him.

It was shy, unfamiliar on her face, but it was directed right towards him, for the first time. She looked almost happy, in her loose hair and blue dress, smiling at him, and something turned over in Leonard’s chest. He felt the corner of his mouth turn up unintentionally.

And it was then that Leonard knew this was definitely a very bad surprise.

* * *

After they ate, Leonard pulled out a deck of cards, shuffling idly as he watched the people around them. Ta-er watched the cards hush against one another, shifting slightly in the dress Leonard had purchased. She couldn’t remember wearing anything so revealing in her life, not that this was much, compared to some of the outfits she’d seen in Gotham. Still, she knew her arms were too scarred for a normal person, she knew her legs were too pocked with divots and marks. It wasn’t that Ta-er was entirely unattractive - even in the League, beauty held sway - but she knew this dress exposed some things she’d rather remain hidden.

However, seeing Leonard’s nearly slack-jawed expression when she’d entered had almost made it worth it. He’d said she looked nice and she knew enough to know that false compliments weren’t something he doled out. So she drew back her shoulders, pushing away the nerves, and watched Leonard shuffle until Mick belched loudly, nudging Leonard’s side. “Deal me in.”

Leonard passed five cards to himself, two to Mick, then eyed Ta-er. “You in, doll?”

“Do we have time for games?” she asked, half serious. “Don’t I have more learning to do? Ballroom dance or something?”

“What eight-year-old knows how to ballroom dance?” Leonard asked, passing her five cards.

The levity was unfamiliar to Ta-er. She’d had some fun among the League, but it was always with a sense of vigilance. Those had been games of speed, strength, dexterity...several of the scars on her hands were from their games.

“So how do we play?” she asked them, looking at the three aces and two queens in her hand.

Mick’s chuckle made Ta-er narrow her eyes at him, but Leonard smirked slightly and got up to sit next to her. “Alright, doll, this is poker, and first rule is don’t trust Mick.”

Over the next couple of hours, Leonard and Ta-er worked together to systematically destroy Mick. The game was simple to learn and easy to master, so Ta-er spent most of the game paying a little more attention to her...partner.

Leonard’s smiles were coming easier than she’d ever seen them before. Come to think of it, this was the first time she’d ever seen him relaxed. He rested on one elbow, his cards dangling in his fingers casually, but never carelessly enough to be visible to her or Mick. He was constantly leaning towards her, pointing out cards and strategies, his arm brushing against hers, his fingers tapping her cards and dragging across her hand.

Ta-er was experienced in a lot of things: torture, murder, poison, weapons, countries, stealth, accents… Flirting was not one of her areas of expertise, but she felt like Leonard was flirting with her. It was new and a little terrifying and - nice?

Her relationship with Nyssa had been tumultuous, passion driven by the highs of near death experience and desperation. There had been very few of the League who didn’t wish to see Ta-er cast out because she was an outsider, so her options had been limited in romance. Even so, “romance” was too kind a word. Nyssa and she had never discussed mutual interests beyond the League, not dreams of the future, nor Ta-er’s past...everything had been in the moment. While at the time it had been exactly what she wanted, it was also the only thing she’d ever known. Living in the moment, living for that day. There were benefits, of course, but it also meant that nothing was deeper, because there was no level deeper than now.

Leonard was almost the complete opposite. Everything was built on plans for the future, though they didn’t involve Ta-er beyond what she could give to them. He always thought ahead, made meaningful and thoughtful decisions, even when they irritated her. She’d never known anyone who’d considered so many steps ahead, so many possible outcomes, except for perhaps Ras. And he was one she hadn’t truly known.

However, that meant, that if he really was flirting with her, he’d considered the possible outcomes, and for the first time in her life, Ta-er really thought about the future. She would become Dinah upon completion of this job, but she never really thought about what it meant. Would she continue to exist in this perpetual limbo? Or would she make a plan?

First things first, she had to discover who she was. Where she’d come from. She had to become a whole person, who could give more to the world than a bloodied blade. But after?

“See, doll, my two-seven offsuit is the worst possible hand,” Leonard sighed, dropping his cards face down to the table. His arms were slung over the backs of the chairs next to him, including the one behind Ta-er. She didn’t move when his cold fingers brushed her arm and he didn’t move away either. It was absurd that such a casual touch could be the focus of her not-insignificant attention.

Mick grinned, tossing in a couple more coins for the pot they’d started creating.

Leonard flipped his cards, four queens, with a smirk.

Mick’s answering swear drew the eyes of every table nearby as Leonard scooped the pot towards him, completely unrepentant in the face of Mick’s threats. Ta-er smiled at the two of them, who’d invited her in to this deal and unexpectedly into their friendship.

After, she could see herself with these two thieves for quite some time.

* * *

The empty rum bottle rolled across the table, until Dinah stopped it with a finger, picking up to confirm that it was, in fact, empty. She put it down with a small sigh, looking up at Leonard with slightly glazed eyes.

He chuckled, the three of them having enjoyed several games of poker until Mick threatened to leave both of them behind as they took his money. Then they’d turned to drinking, though Mick and Dinah had definitely had more than he had. One of them had to remain relatively clear-headed.

“We’re gonna need more of that,” Mick mumbled, gesturing to the empty bottle.

“I’ll get it,” Dinah said, trying to push her chair back from the table. Eventually, she gave up trying to move the bolted chair, turning and getting to her feet with only a slight stumble.

Leonard watched her go with a smile, turning back to see Mick staring at him with a cocky grin.

“What?” Leonard asked, schooling his expression into something more familiar.

“You know what.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Please, I haven’t been drunk off a half-bottle since I was nine.” Mick crossed his arms. “So, you and Blondie.”

“Shut up, Mick,” Leonard said, rolling his eyes. “She’ll get us through this job and we’ll be done.”

“She’s gonna need a place to stay after. A job. Friends.”

“You need friends, Mick?” Leonard challenged, knowing Mick’s tendency to strike out alone, present company excluded.

“Nah,” he said easily. “But she does. She’s still got those ninja bastards coming after her.”

Leonard’s smirk faded as he realized the truth of that. The idea of Dinah being taken back by the League - or worse, what she’d do to avoid being taken…

“So, what?” Leonard leaned forward, honestly curious despite his tone. “We invite her to join our crew?”

“Why not? She’s a fast learner. She’s got skills we don’t. She can drink. What else do we need?”

It was so simple in Mick’s mind and Leonard was jealous. Though he wasn’t wrong, there were other things to consider - Dinah might want to find her own way, the League coming after them, Lewis coming after them if they succeeded, the fallout of returning “Sara” only to have her vanish again-

“Besides,” Mick added, “you’ve got a thing for her.”

“I do not-” Leonard cringed at how juvenile his response sounded, glaring at his friend. “She’s a means to an end that may come in useful again. That’s it.”

“Sure, boss, whatev- Oh, shit,” Mick muttered.

Leonard followed Mick’s gaze to see a flash of cobalt blue being surrounded by several figures at the counter, hulking shoulders and Neanderthal brows dwarfing Dinah. Leonard got to his feet immediately and heard Mick do the same. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but from Dinah’s flat stare, he assumed it was exactly what he expected.

Leonard and Mick crossed the room, coming up behind the group. It seemed to be spearheaded by a broad shouldered, balding man wearing too much leather and too little deodorant. The thug reached out and grabbed Dinah’s wrist.

Looking up, Dinah caught sight of Leonard and Mick. Unexpectedly, she smiled slightly at Leonard and shook her head.

He threw out his hand and stopped Mick.

“Boss-”

“Just wait.”

Dinah’s smile turned cold and shifted to the man in front of her. “I said that I wasn’t interested. Let go.”

“Come on, baby, I-”

**SNAP**

Dinah held onto his wrist, though his arm was skewed unnaturally and he was barely standing. She kept him in place, her grip tight enough to leave marks on his skin.

“Let go!” he snarled, his voice thin with pain.

“Sorry,” Dinah asked quietly. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Let go!”

She merely stared at him.

“Please!”

Dinah let go and the man sagged to the ground. “Next time someone says to let go, you should listen.”

He glared at her from the ground, “You’re gonna regret that!”

A few brave souls in the mob around Dinah surged forward. Leonard kept his arm up in front of Mick, watching Dinah’s hands find the weak places in her opponents. She was just as deadly unarmed as she was with a blade, and that was saying something. Her attackers were driven back as three snaps echoed out, drowned out by the immediate screams of the owners of the broken limbs, making the rest of them hesitate.

Leonard felt the group’s inhale-

Dinah caught his eye-

Leonard dropped his arm and Mick grinned-

The brawl was vicious, one of Leonard’s best. Elbows and kneecaps thrown with abandon and broken just as quickly. Despite his love of his gun, there was something truly satisfying about a good brawl and it’d been quite some time since he’d been in one. Leonard found himself grinning, back to back with Mick in the fray, just as it had always been and how it always would-

A flash of silver out of the corner of his eye had Leonard tensing, but he couldn’t stop the blade as it headed towards his side.

Dinah reached out, grabbing the wrist of the blade owner and wrenching it out of his grip before grinning at Leonard, those dangerously familiar eyes dancing.

And without realizing it, he shifted and Mick adjusted, and then Dinah was back to back with them as they finished off the rest. The three of them worked in tandem, nothing getting past them until the pile of wounded or surrendering men was full.

The ship’s version of security soon came out, eyeing them and the group around them. Leonard grabbed Dinah’s arm and pushed Mick toward the door, a brief nod shared with the security guard in charge. It was obvious what had happened, and Leonard understood the look - they had a pass this time, but they’d better keep their heads down.

“Let’s go,” he said, as Mick hesitated. “Come on.”

Leading his reluctant partners toward the door, Leonard couldn’t help his smirk as the crowd parted before them. Notoriety wasn’t always exactly ideal, but it was certainly useful.

They hit the hallway and Leonard dropped Dinah’s arm, seeing a similar grin on her face. It faded as she met his gaze.

“I didn’t start that,” she began. “I wasn’t trying to cause trouble-”

He interrupted her, recalling their earlier conversation, “You did well, doll.”

The smile returned in force and for a second, Leonard found it hard to breathe-

“Better lay low,” Mick said, glancing at Leonard. “They won’t come after us, but if we cause more problems…”

“Right,” Leonard said. “No more fighting.”

“Before we hole up, I’m gonna grab some more food,” Mick said, glancing back into the galley.

“I’m heading back to the cabin,” Dinah said, pressing the back of her hand to her lip. Now that the adrenaline of the fight had worn off, Leonard could see a hint of red on her hand.

“You all right?” Leonard asked, his hand automatically raising towards her.

“I’m fine. I’m gonna wash up. See you down there.” She smiled at the two of them, then turned and walked away.

Leonard stared after her, not realizing he hadn’t moved until Mick came up behind him and heaved a loud sigh. “I never should’ve let you fight.”

* * *

Ta-er pressed her face into the pillow and willed her heart-rate to slow. The snores of Mick above her and Leonard’s deep breathing off to the side should have helped, but Ta-er’s fingers were clenched into painful fists and her breathing wouldn’t calm no matter how many of her usual techniques she used. The boat pitched from side to side, threatening to dump her out of the bunk every moment, though Leonard and Mick seemed oblivious in their sleep.

Just after the brawl, the sky had begun to darken, swallowing up the stars and making the waves rise higher and higher until they were warned to stay below decks. That had been several hours ago and the guys had long since fallen asleep. Ta-er had tried, but no matter how long she kept her eyes shut, sleep evaded her. And the longer she failed to fall asleep, the higher her nerves raced.

Water had never been her friend. Some sort of irrational fear Ta-er had done her best to ignore. It had never really bothered her, but tonight…eventually she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

_ Ta-er was young, the water filling up her compartment and pouring in through the portholes. She stared at the rising liquid, covering her toes, a whimper escaping her as her cries for help went unheeded. She ran towards the door, tugging it open past the heavy water and closing it behind her in hopes of slowing the tide. _

_ The hall was worse, but there was light up above, if she could only reach it. She started walking through the water, the ripples she made swallowed by waves as it continued to pour through windows and doors. _

_ Suddenly the whole boat lurched backwards, then a slow tip as the floor rose up, and Ta-er nearly tumbled backwards as the ground was now a hill upwards. She struggled to climb up, using the doors as handholds, but a door swung shut on her fingers and she lost her grip- _

_ And fell. _

_ She fell, screams unheard or ignored, into the torrent of water that covered her nose and mouth. Somewhere above the surface, someone stood, watching, and she raised her hand, her throat choking as she screamed for help, but he didn’t move to help her. He just watched as she choked and the darkness swam up and swallowed her down and- _

Ta-we woke, heart pounding and eyes staring uselessly into the darkness. She kicked the thin sheet down, her chest feeling tight. She couldn’t breathe, the air was too close, the walls seemed to be leaning in, her hands were shaking, the ship was sinking, it was suffocating-

Lunging to her feet, Ta-er groped in the darkness for the door. She needed fresh air - she needed to breathe. The door creaked open quietly and Ta-er stepped into the hallway, realizing that it still wasn’t enough. The metal walls were too thick, the doors clogging the hallway and trapping her, she had to get outside.

Ta-er couldn’t barely hear her own breath over the screaming in her head, but something did echo quietly, warning her about going outside. It was drowned out by the panic and she unlocked the door.

When she pushed open the heavy bulkhead that led to the deck, Ta-er gasped in the wet air, her head immediately starting to clear. She could hear her thoughts begin to straighten out and as water sloshed over the side of the deck, she cursed her weakness in coming out here in the first place. She had to get back down below decks and damn the panic. Ta-er turned back to the bulkhead door-

And it swung shut.

Ta-er grabbed the heavy metal and tried to pull it back open, but it wouldn’t budge. Maybe it had locked or maybe the water just made it impossible for her to get a grip on the metal, but it wasn’t opening.

The ship lurched to the side and Ta-er stumbled, grabbing the door vainly. She slid across the slick surface and down a small flight of stairs to the lower deck, towards the side of the boat, just a few wire ropes and posts separating her from the heaving ocean. Scrabbling for a handhold, she managed to snag her fingers into a grate, keeping her from falling, and lightening arced across the sky.

_ Water poured in through the portholes and doors slammed and opened above her, water swirling below, sucking the air down towards the whirlpool- _

Ta-er gasped, swallowing a lungful of water, and she started to choke, her grip loosening on the grate and more water tugging at her sides and hair, inching her closer to the side with every wet cough, the ocean calling to her, and for a moment, part of her wanted to drop. Her fingers loosened on the grate and she couldn’t tell if it was willing or not-

“Dinah, no!”

Leonard was there, dropping down from the deck above and grabbing her arm. Half dragging her to her feet, he hauled both of them towards a different door to below, this one opening easily for him. As soon as they stumbled through and it was closed behind them, he turned on her, grabbing her shoulders. “What the hell were you thinking?! You could have died!” Water dripped off his face and clothes, droplets flying off both of them as he shook her.

She couldn’t even find the energy to fight him off, the panic gone and in its place leaving shame and a bone-deep exhaustion. Her knees started to give out and she would have dropped had Leonard not been hanging onto her. She couldn't seem to stop from speaking, though it didn’t make any sense, her lips felt numb and heavy, her tongue too big for her mouth. “The ship was sinking and I couldn’t breathe, it was happening too quickly and I had to get out, but the door shut and I couldn’t get in, and no one came to help me-”

The anger didn’t fade completely off of Leonard’s face, but it softened a little. “Hey, hey,” he said, his grip not loosening, but adjusting to hold her up rather than to shake sense into her. “You’re okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Despite having enough air, Ta-er couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her heart was in her throat, making it hard to breathe. The ship rolled again and the floor tilted-

_ -and she fell down the hallway, into the water, and someone was shouting her name but it wasn’t her name, the voice was familiar but she couldn’t- _

She grabbed onto Leonard’s shirt, ignoring that they were both soaked through, pressing against him and hiding her face, trying to muffle whatever words continued to spill out in breathless waves, “I was going to drown and no one would know, no one cared. I was trying to be brave, but I’m going to drown-“

“You’re not drowning, doll,” Leonard said, his arms wrapping around to hug her tightly. His grip almost hurt, but she was grateful for it, clinging to him and trying to ground herself. He wouldn’t let her drown, she just had to hang on and be brave and-

“I’m not gonna let you go. Promise,” he said, the words vibrating against her cheek. “You’re okay. It was a nightmare.”

“It wasn’t…it was real.” She started to shake and Leonard hugged her tighter, as if that would help stop it.

“It's not real, because you said no one came to help you,” he said. “And I’m here, aren’t I?”

“It felt real,” she said, the words coming slow and tired now, her entire body aching. She sagged against him, and he compensated for it, shifting to lead her back towards the room.

“It’s not real, doll. You’re okay.”

Exhausted, drained, and lulled by Leonard’s voice in her ear, Ta-er leaned against his chest as he guided her back to the room. She was nearly asleep by the time they got there, but she knew she didn’t imagine it when she felt a gentle pressure on the top of her head and heard him murmur, “And I’d care.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More angst. You know I love it.

Leonard was one of the first to the galley the next morning, the large cup of black coffee doing little to counter the lack of sleep. He stared into the liquid, not seeing it, but reliving the images that had kept him up.

He’d heard the door open last night and assumed Dinah was using the bathroom. But when she didn’t come back, he went looking for her, annoyed, then concerned when the ship lurched to the side and the bulkhead door had slammed shut ahead of him. He’d run to the door and opened it, not finding Dinah in the storm that swirled around them. Shouting her name, he’d ventured out onto the deck, almost immediately soaked from the freezing rain. And then he saw her, hanging onto the grate as the ship tipped and she’d started to fall-

He almost didn’t remember catching her and getting her back inside, it had been all adrenaline, then he was yelling at her, just so angry at her for being such an idiot and for going outside and for not waking him and for terrifying him-

Then Dinah - who’d earlier taken down a dozen men with little help, who’d killed an assassin right in front of him, who didn’t take any of his crap - she seemed to break and held onto him like he was the first one to ever give a damn about her.

Maybe he was.

So he’d led her back to the room and got her to change into some dry things before getting her into bed. She was half asleep the whole time, exhausted and still whispering panicked nonsense. Leonard sat next to her as she fell asleep, hanging onto his hand like a lifeline. After a while, far longer than he probably should have, Leonard extricated himself from her grip and sat up in front of the door, half dozing, but making sure she wasn’t leaving again.

The rest of his evening wasn’t exactly restful, the little sleep he had plagued with dreams of Dinah sliding over the edge of the boat, only this time Leonard was too late, and he shouted her name as she vanished under the water, but it sounded like, “Sara,” instead.

So when the sounds of other passengers moving roused Mick, Leonard gave up and escaped above.

Swallowing the coffee, he tried to organize his thoughts, but they tumbled round and round in his head, every sensible idea interrupted with the way Dinah held onto him, every plan derailed with the panic he’d had at the thought of losing her, every thought of the future feeling dissatisfying without her in the picture.

“Leonard?”

He glanced up, the woman who plagued his mind in front of him. She was wearing the dress again and as he stared, all the noise in his head seemed to quiet. The blessed silence was welcome and he enjoyed it for a long moment until she shifted uncomfortably. 

“Morning,” he said, when he realized he hadn’t responded.

Dinah sat down across from him, her face still pale and the shadows under her eyes worse. Her hands tangled and untangled on the table, such an uncharacteristic display. “I wanted to say, I mean, last night, I’m so sorry, it was stupid and I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s fine, doll,” he said quietly. “You’re okay, everything’s fine.”

“I also wanted to say thank you,” she continued, looking up at him. “No one’s ever...just, thank you.”

“I’d say anytime, but I’d prefer never again.”

She smiled, her hands quieting. “Me too.”

“Good. Go get some breakfast. I’ll be here.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand gently before getting to her feet and heading towards the galley. Leonard watched her go, the quiet thoughts in his head solidifying. 

Sure, she was a complication, but he was the mastermind of complications. He could make this work. After they did what they needed to do, Dinah would have a place with the Rogues. And maybe Leonard would have a little more.

He sipped his coffee and resigned himself to Mick’s gloating with a smile.

* * *

Ta-er rested her chin in her hand, gazing over the galley, half dozing as Leonard played a round of solitaire. The murmur of the crowd was subdued, a faint white noise that she made no effort to discern. Wrapped up in her thoughts, she allowed her eyes to drift over to the thief across from her.

Her sleep had been restless, but she’d only woken fully only once. And in the dim light from the emergency light above the door, she could see Leonard slumped over in front of the entrance to the room. His arms were crossed and his chin nodded against his chest, one knee bent up in front of him, unconsciously guarding the door. He shifted as she watched, his head jerking up as he woke slightly, eyes darting over towards her bed. Ta-er closed her eyes, unsure if he saw her, and slipped back into a slightly more satisfying sleep, feeling safe not only from intruders, but also herself.

Leonard looked up again now, arching a brow as he caught her eye. “What?”

She pointed at the nine he’d missed and he hummed, moving it into place. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Leonard continued to flip over the cards. “Sure, doll.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m bored,” he replied immediately.

Ta-er smiled. “You know what I mean.”

“I know.” He flipped through the cards again, sighing when he realized he couldn’t make another move. Gathering the cards, he shuffled them. “I mentioned revenge.”

“Against whom?”

“Central City’s newly elected commissioner.” He passed her a couple cards and she picked them up.

“What did he do?”

He smiled, an angry, jagged line on his face that made her chest tighten a little. “He ruined a lot of lives. Including mine.”

She hesitated, drawing a card so she didn’t have to look at him as she asked, “What happened?”

Leonard chuckled. “Let’s just say, criminal was my fallback career. He made a choice and when I tried to call him out, he threw me under the bus. Then claimed I stole the bus.”

Ta-er smiled, because that’s clearly what Leonard meant for her to do, but she didn’t like it. She looked at her cards, then back up at him. “I could always kill him for you.”

Leonard paused for a moment, staring up at her. Ta-er kept her face impassive as Leonard tried to decipher her expression.

“I’m not sure if that was meant to be a joke or a legitimate offer,” he said quietly.

“Which would you prefer?”

He smiled, and it was nicer this time. It faded slightly. “The commissioner is Lewis Snart. My father.”

Ta-er was quiet for a few hands, her mind circling around an idea. When Leonard laid down his cards and called gin, she took the deck and began shuffling.

“He’s responsible for Sara’s disappearance,” she said quietly.

Leonard became very still, his eyes watching her warily. “Why would you say that?”

“Why else would I be impersonating her?”

“You’re quick, doll,” he murmured, taking the cards she dealt out. “Yeah. He’s responsible. And if it comes out that Sara Lance is still alive, he’ll lose everything.”

“Did you know her?”

“No. Got any fours?”

Ta-er took the hint and dropped the conversation.

* * *

They pulled into port late that afternoon, the three of them stumbling off and into Star City with weary limbs, despite the early hour. Ta-er followed Leonard and Mick into the city, the casual back track of their movements familiar. She only half-paid attention to where they were going, so exhausted from the night before, and only because of her training. She trusted Mick and Leonard, following where they led without question.

A far cry from a few days ago.

Leonard glanced back at her, his brows raising in a silent question. She smiled in response. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“A club. The owner’s a friend of ours,” Leonard said. “She’ll get us an in with the mayor. We can stay at the club until this is done.”

“And then?” The question slipped out before she really thought about it. Hope sprang into her throat as Leonard smiled back at her, letting Mick take the lead and knock on the side door of a large warehouse building.

“Dunno, doll. Guess that’s up to you.”

The unspoken suggestion sat in the air - she could choose to stay with them. Ta-er grinned, opening her mouth-

“Mick, you son of a bitch!”

Ta-er looked up, tensing at the words, though they were said in almost a complementary way.

“Queenie,” Mick grinned, scooping up a petite girl in a hug, making her vanish almost completely before he released her. Her hazel eyes danced as she looked up at the big man, her short hair in a easy, tousled look, the makeup expertly applied and lipstick drawing attention to the large smile on her face. The outfit wasn’t what Sara would have expected as a club owner - some sort of professional attire - but that was the extent of her expectations.

Queenie - was that really her name? - glanced past Mick to Leonard and the smile warmed. “Hey, Snart.”

“Thea,” Leonard said, a brief one-armed hug shared between the two of them that made Ta-er relax slightly.

Thea punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t think I didn’t notice my stores significantly emptier than they were before you came last time. I’ve counted every single bottle, so if you take something, you’re paying for it this time.”

“Thea,” Leonard said, his smirk easy, “when have I ever paid for anything?”

“You will now, or I’ll set Ollie on you.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, but changed the subject quickly, stepping aside so Ta-er was in the conversation. “Doll, this is Thea Queen. Thea, this is-”

“Holy shit,” Thea breathed, staring at her.

Ta-er shifted uncomfortably, as the young woman stared at her, not saying anything.

“Is it really…?” Thea murmured. “Really?” She looked at Leonard, awe in her voice. “I can’t believe you.” Then her eyes narrowed and her gaze grew hard. “No, I can’t believe you. No way. No way this is her. I can’t do this. You haven’t seen him, it’s bad. And the commissioner-”

“Queenie,” Mick said, stepping between them. “At least let us in. It’s been hell the past few days. Let’s talk.”

Thea hesitated, her eyes darting towards Ta-er with every moment. “Fine. Come in.”

Mick followed her in, but Ta-er hesitated, nerves wracking through her. “Leonard-”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, putting his hand at the small of her back to guide her in. “We’ve got this.”

For his sake, she certainly hoped so.

* * *

Leonard stood in the corner, the drink untouched in his hand as he tracked Thea’s movements around the room. The girl was on edge, and clearly more nervous about this than Leonard had expected when he set this up. Thea had only known he and Mick wanted a face to face with the mayor, not their surprise guest. Well, that was on him, but he knew that they could still pull this off. They just had to prove Dinah was Sara.

She could do it.

The woman in question was entering from the second of two rooms Thea had made up for them. The upstairs portion of the club held a few offices and a small apartment. This is where Thea had been living when Leonard and Mick had crossed her path the first time, serving as muscle for a minor kingpin at the beginning of their partnership. Of course, after discovering sixteen-year-old Thea overdosed on the ground and unresponsive, they’d usurped the kingpin, gotten her help, and demolished the drug ring. The detox had been horrific, but Thea had made it and rescinded every threat she’d leveled at the two. After finally making amends with her brother, she moved back in with him and the apartment stood empty. It was functional - two rooms and a shared common room, with a bathroom and tiny kitchenette in the corner.

Currently, Leonard was standing by the window of the common room, while Mick lounged on the small sofa in the corner. Thea paced in front of the couch, and Dinah crossed the room to stand close enough to Leonard that whenever he took too deep a breath, he brushed her arm. Her breath was coming faster the longer Thea remained silent and Leonard could feel the anxiety beginning to hum beneath her skin.

Leonard put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Dinah immediately reached up and grabbed at his hand. He allowed it for a moment before moving past her. “What’s the hold up, Thea?” he finally asked.

“The hold up,” she spun on them, pointedly ignoring Dinah, “is that I don’t believe you, Snart. You’re a conman. A criminal. And you’re saying that this  _ woman- _ ”

“Sara,” Mick interjected, his tone not quite so gentle with Thea this time.

Thea blinked, but kept going, “That she happens to be the same girl lost all those years ago? And  _ you’re  _ the one who found her?”

Leonard crossed his arms. “Well, who the hell else has been looking?”

Thea arched a brow. “I’ll give you that. But he’s here. Commissioner Snart is here for the supertrain thing.”

He shrugged. “So?”

“So, if this is a con-”

“Who said it was a con?”

She glared at Dinah, then back at Leonard. “What’s your proof?”

He looked back at Dinah, who was pale, but nodded as she met his gaze. Leonard felt a surge of pride as Dinah stepped forward.

“Ask me,” she said simply.

Thea looked at her for a long, long moment. “Who are you?”

“I’m Sara Lance.”

And the questions began.

Leonard returned to the window, and leaned against the sill, watching. This was all up to Dinah now. He was still, only his eyes moving from Thea to Dinah to Mick, and back to Dinah.

And she was flawless.

If he hadn’t been the one to teach her all of this, he would’ve believed she was really Sara Lance - the hesitance, the smiles, the lies she’d embraced to her very core - she’d done everything he’d dreamed of and more.

But as Dinah said every right word, Leonard found himself feeling more and more uneasy. These lies didn’t suit her. This fake life didn’t deserve Dinah.

Regardless of what she wanted at the end, Leonard swore he would help Dinah find her past. Find where she belonged, because she deserved the truth. She deserved it all.

And he’d give her everything, if she let him.

She glanced at him only once during the entire inquisition, Thea’s questions delving into every detail Leonard had known and a few he was certain Dinah made up on the spot. Dinah met his eyes and Leonard had nodded at her, a smile on his face.

Dinah lit up.

Then Thea asked, “How’d you survive?”

Dinah stilled, looking back at Thea, who seemed unsure of the question herself, half-convinced of Dinah’s identity already. Leonard bit his tongue, running a hand over his head and breaking his stillness for the first time. Dammit. The one thing they couldn’t prove. The one thing she couldn’t answer. He wouldn’t have needed this if it was the mayor - just Sara’s apparent existence would have been enough. He turned towards the window and cursed himself, his father, everything. Opening his mouth, he was about to end it all when Dinah spoke.

“I remember the water was rising in the ship and I was alone,” she said quietly, her eyes looking past Thea. “I was trying to get out, but the ship broke and the floor tipped and I fell and…”

Leonard leaned against the window, closing his eyes. This was all for nothing and-

“And a...an officer caught me.”

Leonard opened his eyes, staring out into the city, but seeing a terrified little girl, soaked through and staring up at him, trusting that he would save her life. The scene that had driven him to take down his father. To be better than the common criminal. To become who he was today.

Dinah was still talking, her voice distant and confused as she described Leonard’s living nightmare. “He was a police officer. He pulled me up and promised he wouldn’t let go, I just had to be brave. We were almost out, but someone...someone shut the door on us, but the officer promised it would be okay. But...there was an explosion and-and then the water swirled up and I fell, he tried, he shouted my name, but…”

Dinah trailed off and Leonard couldn’t breathe. His mind, the greatest asset he had, the one thing he prided above all others, it was blank. Numb.

It wasn’t possible.

Thea exhaled slowly, eyes wide. “It’s really you.”

The woman - the  _ stranger _ \- smiled, hesitancy gone and she grinned at Leonard in the reflection of the window. His lack of a response was quickly covered by Mick’s guffaw, “Yes!”

Thea began talking quickly, “God, we have to get you to see Quentin, he’ll be-“

“Mayor first,” Mick interjected, when Leonard was still quiet. “Not everyone’s gonna be thrilled Sara’s back. ‘Sides, the mayor will make sure the truth gets known.”

Thea nodded, color in her cheeks as she unintentionally began to bounce slightly. “There’s a gala tomorrow, for the new supertrain, and you can go and meet the mayor and it’ll be perfect!”

“I don’t...I don’t really have anything to wear to a gala.”

That voice. Now he could hear it. He could hear that voice saying his name. Pleading with him to save her. Trusting him to do that, only for him to fail. Leonard stared at the glass, seeing shadows moving in the reflection behind him, but choosing not to focus on them. He couldn’t.

“That’s okay! We’ll go out, get you the perfect outfit. You can party here tonight - on the house, Snart - and be ready for tomorrow!” Thea was over the moon, and Leonard heard the chattering continue as Thea led... _ her _ out of the room.

When the door closed, Mick let out a gigantic huff. “I can’t believe she pulled it off. I may have had my doubts, but she sold it.”

“It’s her,” Leonard said quietly, his words fogging the glass and unheard.

“She was amazing. She’s gonna convince everyone. This is gonna work!”

The door opened, “Guys, Thea apparently meant we’re leaving right this second. So let’s go.”

Leonard turned, looking at the woman in the door for what felt like the first time. She looked exactly as she had five minutes ago, but now he knew why she’d struck him from the very first. The same tilt of her head. The same curl of her lip. The same trust he’d never anticipated someone bestowing on him, child or no.

She grinned at him and something cracked within him as she beamed, “We did it.”

The same goddamn eyes. He’d called it, from the beginning. Those eyes.

And though this was the most perfect setup he could’ve run, the only foolproof way to get what he wanted, as Leonard looked into her eyes, all he felt was a sinking disappointment he never could have prepared himself for.

Dinah Drake deserved better than a lie, and he could have given her that.

But Sara Lance deserved far more than any truth a man like Leonard Snart could ever offer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the reviews! This chapter is a little angsty, as will be the next several chapters...sorry!
> 
> I'm loving this story, guys. I'm having so much fun writing it and reading your reviews. I know it doesn't seem it, but it really means a lot every time I get a review, even if it's incoherent yelling.

The afternoon was a whirlwind for Ta-er. The club, the questions, the clothes-

She pulled again at the green dress Thea had chosen, it clung to her like a second skin and she wasn’t entirely comfortable in it.

“I’m really not a fan of clubs,” Ta-er said, as Thea flitted about with a curler in one hand and an eyeliner wand in the other. She could hear the thundering beat of the bass from below, though impressively subdued in the apparently soundproofed room.

“Don’t worry.” Thea said, waving her arm out towards the club. Ta-er ducked instinctively. “Tonight’s throwback night anyway, so it’ll be a smaller crowd and older music. Quiet Thursday.”

Ta-er glanced again at her reflection in the mirror of the small room, grateful that Thea had the room to spare, but missing the camaraderie of the past few nights. She had become used to sharing her space with Leonard and Mick. Not that it would have mattered much now. Shortly after they’d left the club to go shopping, Leonard had split off from them and she hadn’t seen him since.

The smile he’d throw her during the questioning had made her heart flip in her chest and she was looking forward to celebrating tonight. Regardless of whether they convinced the mayor, Mick had made it clear that this was a success and they should enjoy themselves. He was certainly doing his part, having picked up two drinks upon their return, downing them in seconds, and going off to find more before Ta-er and Thea had made it up the stairs. Leonard hadn’t returned yet, as far as Ta-er knew.

Several minutes and a few close calls with the curling iron later, Thea stepped back and nodded. “Alright. I think you’re good.”

Her loose blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in gentle waves, her eyes and lips accented by the makeup. Though the dress showed more skin than she liked, Ta-er still felt pretty.

Thea smiled at her in the mirror. “You’re gonna knock him dead.”

Ta-er ignored how her reflection’s cheeks turned pink. “I don’t know who-”

“Please. I’ve known Snart for years, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he was looking at you.” She nudged Ta-er’s shoulder and grinned.

Ta-er shook her head and dropped her gaze, “He’s not-”

Thea fixed a lock of her hair. “Don’t sweat it. I didn’t mean to stress you out. Just have fun.”

Having become more familiar with that idea in the past few days, Ta-er smiled. “I’ll try.”

With a wide grin, Thea said, “This’ll help. Here,” she wrapped a silver entry bracelet around her wrist, “this’ll get you free drinks all night. Take it easy. Also gets you up to the VIP section above the dance floor. Kitchen closes at two, but you can always head back up here. Security knows, so no one should hassle you.”

“Thank you,” Ta-er said.

Thea smiled. “If you need help with the having fun thing, I’m usually by the bar.”

Ta-er got to her feet, smiling at the thought.

“‘Course, Snart is probably available, too,” Thea teased.

With a good-natured glare, Ta-er turned on the shorter girl, who seemed to fill the room with her smile and laugh. Thea winked and darted towards the door, her blue skirt and dark crop top highlighting her delicate frame. “See you out there, Sara.”

Ta-er paused, the door closing behind the club owner.

Sara.

The name felt strange. Better than Ta-er. Less comfortable than Dinah, but perhaps that was due to how often she’d been called that recently.

“Sara,” she repeated quietly to herself in the mirror.

Sara Lance. Daughter of a former cop. Missing key to Leonard’s revenge. That was a lot to consider. A lot of responsibility.

With a small smile, Ta-er decided to take Thea’s advice and just have fun tonight. She liked music. She adjusted her hair once more and stepped out of her door, smile in place.

Maybe Leonard liked dancing.

* * *

Leonard leaned against the railing in the VIP section of Verdant, staring down at the dance floor. He hated most clubs, but the big band music of the throwback evening wasn’t entirely unenjoyable. The free, top shelf alcohol definitely helped, too. He gazed down at the dance floor, the place still full, though not packed. They people below glistened in the multi-colored lights, pulsing in time to the music, creating a writhing mass of bodies and lights. He convinced himself he wasn’t looking for anyone in particular. That he wasn’t avoiding anyone. But he took a sip and knew that was a lie.

He’d slipped off during the shopping spree, needing to get his head on straight before everyone realized something was wrong. Especially Sara.

Sara.

It felt strange to think of her with that name. She’d been Dinah for days, and Ta-er occasionally. But Sara-

It wasn’t just the fact that she was alive. It was the fact that it meant a thousand things were different in his plan, and a thousand more to consider now. Originally, Sara was supposed to disappear after Lewis was removed and no one would be the wiser. Now, Sara would be back for good. And if Lewis was going to go after anyone other than Leonard, it would be her. He’d have to make sure she was protected. Mayor first, and then-

Didn’t matter. Mayor first, then he’d worry about the next step. Besides, an upcoming step included convincing Sara, too.

God, Sara.

In the back of his mind, Leonard knew that his own life had shifted dramatically. She was truly Sara Lance. Which meant he didn’t kill her. It meant he tried to save her, and the person he thought he was before everything else… 

He hadn’t been wrong.

Everything that had changed in his life happened because of Sara’s supposed death. Not that he blamed her, he could never blame her for what his father did, but that moment had irrevocably changed his life.

Leonard drained the rest of his glass, leaning his arms on the railing, the empty glass clinking as the ice hit the rim. With a quick glance, he reassured himself that Mick was still in place at the table behind him, a disconcertingly large number of empties already piling on the table. He wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. The VIP section wasn’t full, but there were a few dozen milling around, encroaching on his space.

Taking a deep breath, Leonard blew it out slowly. Regardless of anything he may or may not feel, the job was unchanged, at least for him. This was just work. Revenge, obviously, but his kind of work. He could do it. He had to do it.

“Leonard?”

He looked over as, once again, the subject of his thoughts came into view. This time, the silent relief of his mind didn’t accompany her. Instead, a faint howling of other things, of “could have”s and “would have”s that didn’t matter any longer. He pushed them back and forced a faint smile. “Hey, doll. You look good.”

The club look wasn’t his favorite, but everything was flattering on her. The deep green dress was short, but the long sleeves covered the scars he knew she was self conscious of. The high heels still left her four inches short of him. He noticed the silver band around her wrist. “Get a drink, yet?”

She shook her head. “Thea just let me loose.”

“I need a refill anyway.” He gestured for her to take his spot at the railing and wove his way through the crowd towards the bar. Grabbing two of the same, he headed back, annoyed to see a large party taking over the table closest to the railing and blocking his route. Pushing his way through, he tapped Sara’s shoulder and handed her the glass. She moved, one arm leaning on the railing to make room for him. With another breath to steel himself, Leonard slipped into place next to her as he was bumped and jostled by the people around them. Automatically, he turned, shielding Sara slightly from the group, her shoulder pressing into his chest as they looked out over the railing.

“If this is Thea’s idea of a small crowd,” Sara said, leaning up so Leonard could hear her, “business must be good.”

He hummed, sipping his drink and watching her do the same. She swallowed, looking at the glass for a long moment, then drained the entire thing, the whiskey disappearing.

“Trying to get your money’s worth?” he asked.

She smiled, hanging onto the edge of the glass as she eyed the dance floor. For a moment, Leonard saw the smile crack a little.

“What’s wrong?”

“Thea seems worried about...about what Sara might do. Why?” she asked.

He thought about lying. “She’s worried about Quentin.”

“Sara’s father.” At his nod, she said, “Why?”

“He lost his daughter. Then his job. Then his marriage.” If anyone had suffered more than Sara herself, it would have been Quentin Lance. “Turned to drink. Lost his home.”

“Did you know him?”

Again, he thought about lying, but looking down into Sara’s eyes, he couldn’t. “I did. He’s a good man dealt a bad hand.”

“You…” Her words were hesitant, “you said that I would only hurt bad people.”

On instinct, he leaned closer. “You’re not gonna hurt him, doll. Promise.”

If anything, she’d save him.

She glanced at her cup, sipping the the melted, whiskey tinted ice and draining the glass. Staring over the crowd, she said, “Do you dance, Leonard?” Her hips were already swaying to the beat, the movements smooth and barely intentional.

“On rare occasions,” he answered.

“Is tonight a rare occasion?” 

The rarest. The last moment before the storm. The last chance he’d have with her before she discovered the truth. The last time she’d look at him as someone important. As an equal. “You asking me to dance, doll?”

The faint flush couldn’t be blamed on the drink. It was cute and made him smile, in a heartbreaking sort of way. “Yes.”

“I’m gonna need another drink before that,” he said, hating that she remembered so little that just a tiny bit of attention from him made her light up, and hating that it made him feel like he was something special. “I’ll meet you down there.”

She beamed, and worked her way through the crowd toward the stairs. Leonard went back to the bar, finishing his drink on the way, and passing Mick’s table. The big guy was snoring already, and Leonard shook his head. It was impressive. Grabbing two more drinks, Leonard went to the stairs, looking over the crowd to find his-

His nothing. Not anymore.

Sara was dancing already, a nymph in gold and green, and Leonard, who’d thought this couldn’t possibly hurt anymore than it already did, was proven wrong. The ache in his chest seemed constant, but his steps were sure as he descended the staircase.

He couldn’t help keep his eyes from being drawn to Sara, but he glanced past her to see a woman with dark hair also watching her.

Funny, she seemed familiar somehow.

The woman looked over Sara to lock eyes with Leonard. She frowned, then vanished into the crowd.

Leonard saw the embroidery on the edge of her dark robe as she lost herself amid the people and knew why she looked familiar. Sara had those robes in her bag. The ones who attacked them on the train had those robes. Leaving the drinks on the railing, Leonard cut through the crowd, shoving those who weren’t moving quickly enough. He was a fool and if he hadn’t been so caught up in Sara-

Sara noticed his approach and smiled, but it faded as he grabbed her arm.

“What’s-”

“They’re here,” Leonard said lowly. Turning in place, he tried to look at everyone, but the crowd was too large, too swarming to pick out any details, he couldn’t see her anymore-

Sara frowned, “Who?”

“League.”

Sara cursed, eyeing the room. “We have to-”

But she stiffened in his hand, going very still and Leonard turned to see that same woman in black directly behind them, a flash of silver held against Sara’s side. In a low, melodious voice, the woman whispered through clenched teeth.

“Hello, beloved.”

* * *

Ta-er heard Nyssa’s voice and her heart plummeted. How foolish was she to assume that being beaten once would have been enough to keep the League at bay.

The slim blade pressed into Ta-er’s side, underneath her ribs. Nyssa herself had been the one to teach Ta-er that it was a perfect place for a simple blade to penetrate.

Leonard had seen the same thing, and was turning, his hand darting to his waist.

“Stop,” Ta-er said.

Leonard did as she asked, his eyes turning on her, anger and fear melding into something that she’d never seen before on his face. It took her a moment to realize it was concener for her.

Ignoring the kiss of the blade, Ta-er turned in place, feeling the metal press across her middle, though never actually cut the fabric of her dress. She stared her attacker in the eye, remembering that last time she’d seen Nyssa, she had been asleep, hair splayed over their bed.

“Nyssa,” Ta-er said quietly. “Please.”

Nyssa’s eyes were hard, but she lowered the knife slightly. “Explain.”

Ta-er immediately took a step back. Too late, did Ta-er realize she’d automatically moved to be in line with Leonard. Shoulder to shoulder, where they’d be best suited to take a stance should this come to a fight. Time was, she would’ve stood like that with Nyssa.

Nyssa couldn’t fail to notice and, her eyes sparking, she cursed at Leonard, her hand lifting the blade toward him this time.

Ta-er reacted without thinking, stepping forward again and grabbing her wrist, literally between Nyssa and Leonard. “No.”

Nyssa looked down in shock. Ta-er had never once stopped Nyssa like this before. Her heart pounding, Ta-er didn’t move as Nyssa glared at her and sneered, “Him?”

She didn’t even truly know what she was admitting to, when Ta-er answered, “Him.”

But Leonard’s hand hovered above her back, not trying to stop her or get in her way, just remind her that he was there. And Ta-er knew it was the right answer.

The scowl didn’t leave Nyssa’s face. “You will return with us.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Leonard snapped. “And if you try-”

“I have killed a hundred men, crook,” Nyssa cut him off, “One more will mean nothing.”

“Stop it,” Ta-er said, letting go of Nyssa’s wrist, still standing between Leonard and the balde. “Stop.”

Nyssa glared at her and Leonard was so tense his jaw was white.

“Nyssa,” Ta-er stepped towards her, taking both of her hands in hers.

“Doll-” Leonard made to move, but Ta-er glanced back at him and shook her head. His jaw snapped shut, but he stopped, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Nyssa, I can’t return. Please.” Ta-er squeezed her hands gently, trying to meet her eye, but Nyssa stared past her.

“The Demon has commanded it. No one leaves.”

“No one was ever supposed to join after the age of five. But you took me in, though you weren’t supposed to. You trained me, though you weren’t supposed to. You loved me, when you weren’t-”

“It does not matter. You will return.”

“I won’t.” Ta-er’s hands shook slightly. 

That faint movement was what drew Nyssa’s gaze, finally. She looked up and Ta-er could see the part of Nyssa she’d fallen in love with - that devotion and independence, though not always in the right places.

“If you do not, I will have to kill you,” Nyssa whispered.

“If I do, I’ll kill myself.” Now, Ta-er’s hands were still and strong.

There was a faint noise from behind them, and she heard Leonard take a step closer.

Nyssa’s eyes widened. “You would do that, rather than return? Rather than be with...us?”

It might not have been love, not really, but Ta-er saw Nyssa’s heart break and her stomach began to churn. “I can’t be that anymore.”

“But that is all I am,” Nyssa said.

Ta-er didn’t move, and Nyssa sighed. “I see.”

Nyssa didn’t move for a long moment, weighing the options. The punishment she would have if Ta-er were to go free. Nyssa hesitated, unsure.

“If you ever felt anything for me,” Ta-er whispered, “you’ll let me go.”

Nyssa’s eyes filled and she sighed, her eyes lingering on the necklace on Ta-er neck. “I should have known. You were never meant for me, Ta-er al-Sahfer.”

“Nyssa…”

“No, beloved. You were found and we took you in, but you never belonged.”

Though Ta-er knew Nyssa meant it as an explanation, a forgiveness, it still stung. “I’m sorry.”

Nyssa’s smile was sharp. “Never apologize for who you are. Good or bad.” 

Ta-er dropped her hands and stepped back. Her hands still trembled, but Leonard placed his hand at the small of her back and she stilled.

With a disdainful glance at Leonard, Nyssa then ignored him. “What is your name, now?”

“Di-”

“Sara Lance,” Leonard interrupted. His voice cracked slightly, perhaps out of anger.

Ta-er nodded, cursing herself for forgetting the ruse, even for a moment.

Nyssa glanced at him briefly, before turning to Ta-er. Reaching out, Nyssa touched her cheek briefly. “Goodbye, beloved.” Then she straightened and ignored the tears that gathered in her eyes. “Ta-er al-Sahfer is dead, and now, only Sara Lance shall remain. Ta-er al-Sahfer is only alive in the past. She is forgotten.”

The relief that hit was nearly palpable, a physical weight that was lifted as Nyssa announced her death - her freedom - from the League. She had to touch her chest to make sure her heart was still beating.

Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine Nyssa would let her go.

Without another word, Nyssa turned away and left, and she knew she wouldn’t see her again.

Leonard stepped up and touched her arm, “Doll?”

Tears were clouding her vision, but she still managed to smile at Leonard. “She freed me. They won’t come after me. It’s over.”

He smiled halfway, looking at the tracks on her face. “Then what’s wrong?”

She moved forward and hugged him tightly. After a moment, he returned it, leaning his head down to hear her answer.

“Nothing’s wrong. Nothing. I’m free.”

As she pulled away from him, there in the lights of the club, the music swirling around them, Dinah Drake smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one is extra long, because I can't pace for shit, apparently. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (And if you finished Granted, know that I'm already beginning something else, kind of along the lines of "Your Face is a Mess," and I'm pretty excited about it.)
> 
> Again, thank you for all the kudos and reviews. It means everything.
> 
> Also, heads up. Angst, you know I love it.

Leonard had long ago accepted that he was a terrible man.

When he was younger, it had been easier to ignore those urges. He had his mother, his sister, his father, even if sometimes he didn’t want him. He had a home and food on the table. It was easy to bury the feelings of resentment and continue forward with his life.

After the sinking of the  _ Gambit  _ and the attempt on Leonard’s life, it had been more difficult to control those feelings. He hated his father. He hated the police. He hated the city. But he dealt with it. He buried it again, continuing in his work.

Then he’d been discharged, with full humiliation, from a job he enjoyed, for no other reason than his own father’s greed. His anger was to the front, but he was trying to rise above it.

Then his father became commissioner.

Then he’d been stalked by the police on false charges.

Then he was barred from seeing his sister.

Then he demonized. Criminalized. Ostracized.

He was alone. Abandoned. Betrayed.

It was then that he allowed himself to be terrible.

He stole from others, perhaps those who needed it more and he forced himself not to care. He threatened others and forced himself to be unmoved by their tears and pleas. He observed people, and took got what he needed from them, without care for how they felt. He cut himself off from everyone, and forced himself to remain distant and aloof.

And perhaps that was why he was truly terrible, because he had to  _ force  _ himself to do these things. It wasn’t who he was, but because he was choosing to become this. He made himself terrible.

And seeing Nyssa approach Sara had been another terrible moment.

For a breath last night, he saw his place beside the real Sara Lance. Because he knew her past, Ta-er’s past. He could have helped her when no one else would have been able to. A protector from the part of her she wouldn’t want to reveal to her family.

And then, when Sara had perfectly, beautifully, tragically taken that opportunity away, he’d been disappointed.

Like only a terrible person would be.

“Boss?”

Leonard turned, seeing Mick and Sara enter, garment bags in both of their hands. The two of them had gone to pick up their clothes for the gala, and while Sara’s smile may have seemed overenthusiastic considering the mundane nature of the task, he understood.

She didn’t have to look over her shoulder any longer.

After Nyssa’s departure and Leonard’s monstrous realization, he’d begged off early, leaving Sara in Thea’s capable hands. Last he saw of her, Sara and Thea were in the center of the dance floor, most eyes on them. Sara moved with abandon, freedom looking beautiful on her.

So when he’d suggested that Mick go get their clothes this morning, Sara had been eager to volunteer to go with him.

“Got everything?” he asked.

“Monkey suits,” Mick grumbled. “You know I hate ‘em.”

“You don’t have to come,” Leonard reminded him for what felt like the thirtieth time.

“If you think I’m not seeing this thing through,” Mick started.

Leonard cut him off. “We have about an hour before we have to leave. We should something to eat and get dressed. Thea left some sandwich meat in the fridge.”

“Can wait to be done with this,” Mick said. “Back to our old lives, our old haunts. After tonight, we’re free. Last night and it’s done.”

Sara smiled at him, getting out three plates. “Looking forward to being back in Central City?”

“I hate Star City,” Mick responded. “I hate Central, too, but it’s better than here.”

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“Buildings are too close together. Burn down one and you’d take the whole damn town.” A rare but familiar spark started in Mick’s eye. “Then again-”

“No,” Leonard interrupted, cutting his eyes at Mick. He handed the bread to Sara without looking away from him.

The arsonist muttered something unflattering and took the makings of a sandwich to the small table. With a sigh, Leonard joined him, still glaring gently. Sara joined them after a minute and they ate in silence, until Sara spoke up.

“What will you do back in the city?”

“Scores to settle,” Mick said. “Jobs that need doing.” He took a massive bite of his sandwich and then looked towards her. “Some of them might need an extra hand.”

Leonard could have strangled Mick for saying it. The way Sara lit up, leaning forward towards them, already eager, made him nearly sick at the thought of having to explain why none of that was possible.

“Really? Do you-” Sara perked up.

Leonard cut in, keeping his voice level, “Doll, if you’re done, we’ve really gotta move. It’s a fifteen minute drive there.” Forcing down the rest of his sandwich without making it appear like he was rushing, Leonard moved past her to the sink, dropping his dish in and turning back to his and Mick’s room before she could renew the conversation. Mick followed, crumbs trailing him.

“Grab the suits,” Leonard ordered to Mick.

He did, leaving the smallest of the bags for Sara. As Leonard shut the door, he caught sight of Sara’s expression. He was relieved when she didn’t seem upset; not that he could have said anything to alleviate it.

He turned on Mick as soon as the door was shut. “Goddammit, Mick, you have to stop-”

“No, you have to stop. Thought you were over all this. Thought you liked her.” Mick was irritated, petulantly crossing his arms and intentionally creasing the garment bags.

“That has nothing to with it!” Leonard dropped his voice, calming himself. “Look, we have to get through tonight. We’ll talk more about this later. But we have to get through tonight, first.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Mick dressed quickly, then left, claiming he was getting a drink for the road. Leonard knew that he’d hurt Mick’s feelings, and couldn’t afford to say anything now. They were too close to change the plan. Too close to rattle Sara with truth, not tonight. And if Mick knew, the first thing he’d do would be to tell Sara. They couldn’t afford that, not when so much was riding on this. Not just for him and Mick, but for Sara, for Quentin, for Lewis, and everyone affected by the commissioner. Too much.

Leonard grabbed the bottle he’d taken back up to his room the night before, giving up halfway through changing and taking a seat. Tipping the bottle back, he took a deep swig, the hum of alcohol almost immediate beneath his skin and he closed his eyes.

Just one more night.

* * *

Dinah stared at the dress hanging on the door, an unfamiliar giddy smile plastered over her face as she did her makeup.

“Last night,” Mick had said. “And it’s done.”

Tonight it would all be over. After tonight, she’d be free to go where she wanted. She’d be Dinah and she would be herself. She’d have to celebrate. A drink. A dozen drinks. Maybe she’d convince Leonard to go dancing for real and-

Dinah paused, catching her reflection in the mirror. Tonight was their last night together. They had plans, Mick had said. Jobs, scores to settle. She’d played her part and now, they were done.

But, maybe...maybe she could stay with them? Work with them. She could help. She could be Dinah with the Rogues. She could stay with them.

Couldn’t she?

That thought in her head, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. She left her room, crossing the common area without a sound, the eager staccato she rapped out on the boys’ door so unlike her.

It opened quickly, Leonard standing in the threshold, a bottle of liquor in his free hand. “Doll, what-”

“Can I stay?”

He stared at her for a long moment, clearly caught off guard. He was half dressed, slacks and an undershirt, socks but no shoes and looking uncharacteristically confused. “I only told Thea we’d be here ‘til Sunday, but-”

“No,” she smiled, stepping into his room and past him. Mick was conspicuously absent, his great bulk noticeable from any angle of the room. “I meant tomorrow.”

Leonard closed the door behind her, leaning against the frame. He was quiet for a long, long moment and she couldn’t help but lose the smile. She started to talk, the nerves making her words run out in streams.

“I can help you and Mick, I know a bit, but you can teach me. And the League is done, they won’t come after me, so you’ll be safe and-”

“That’s not the problem,” he said, putting the bottle on the table and taking a seat on the bed. He gestured at the extra room and she sat next to him, leaning towards him, as she hoped for a way to understand.

“I know I’m not a thief or anything but-”

“That’s not it,” he repeated. He sounded so tired.

“Then what is it?” Dinah asked quietly. “I can learn.”

“Doll,” he sighed. “We both know that won’t be good enough.”

Her heart sunk slightly, but he squeezed her hand, “No, not you. I mean...look, you left the League because you didn’t know who you were. You think that’s going away, just ‘cause you have more fun with us?”

She frowned, dropping her eyes to their hands. “What if I never find out? I like being Dinah. Shouldn’t I be happy with what I’ve got?”

“You can’t settle, doll. Never settle for less than what you’re owed,” he murmured.

Dinah looked up at him, his expression now carefully guarded, half mast eyes watching her.

Her breath caught and suddenly Dinah realized what exactly was keeping her here.

_ Staring down assassins, nothing but a gun and grin, cutting off the bile that spewed from Qadir’s mouth with a frozen blast and a quip, “Sorry, did I interrupt your speech?” _

_ Watching her, his gaze calculating and understanding, as he promised something she’d never be able to do alone. “I never hesitate.” _

_ Drenched and shaking on the ship, his arms wrapping around her tightly, holding her together and not flinching as she turned her head into his shoulder. “I’m not gonna let you go. Promise.” _

_ A faint smile, something shifting between them as he looked down at her in the crowded club, “You asking me to dance, doll?” _

_ His not-so-silent support in the face of Nyssa’s blade. _

Leonard was there for her in a way that she’d never experienced. He supported her, her fought for what she wanted, he respected her. He seemed to care about her like no one ever had. At least, no one she could ever remember.

And as she looked into his oceanic eyes, which didn’t fill her with any fear at all, Dinah realized why she really wanted to stay.

Oh, god.

“Besides,” Leonard continued, unaware of the freight car of realization hitting her, “This isn’t any kind of life. On the run, scraping by, conning people. You’d never have enough of anything.”

“I don’t care,” she said quietly. “I like being with you.”

For a moment, the mask was gone and Leonard stared at her with something almost like longing. His fingers tightened around hers and his eyes burned a brilliant blue as his head moved closer to her. Dinah leaned forward, just a fraction, an infinitesimal motion, and the moment shattered.

Leonard blinked and sat back, letting go of her hand as he stood. “You deserve better than that kind of life.”

Dinah flexed her fingers, the brand of his touch now almost painful in the rejection. She didn’t respond, unable to move or speak or breathe-

“You should finish getting ready,” Leonard said quietly. “We have to leave in twenty.”

She nodded, the motion automatic, getting to her feet without a word. She walked back to her room and as she passed Leonard, his hand flexed, as if he wanted to stop her.

“One more night, doll,” he said, his hand dropping back to his side.

She closed the door behind her without responding.

One more night.

* * *

The car was quiet on their way to the gala. Thea had joined them, making any conversation about the ruse impossible. Sara was looking pale, nervous, and kept her eyes down most of the ride, the coat she wore tucked just beneath her chin. Leonard resisted the urge to console her, unable to say much with Thea’s presence in the car.

When they got to the coat-check, Leonard and Mick dropped theirs quickly, the two ladies taking longer. Mick pulled Leonard to the side, still angry from earlier.

“What the hell is going on, Snart? You said this plan was foolproof, but you’re looking like-”

“It is. We have nothing to worry about.” He fixed his cuff, eyes at the corner where the coat-check was.

“She’s good, but-”

“It’s her.”

“Yeah, and Lewis will-”

“No,” Leonard said quietly, facing him and dropping his voice. “Mick, it’s  _ her _ . She’s really Sara Lance. I was the cop who caught her. It was me.”

“Shit.” Mick blinked, the frown crossing his face slow as he realized what that meant for them. For Leonard. “But, you and Blondie-”

He forced a smile. “Cop’s daughters don’t date criminals.”

“Snart, she deserves to know-”

“Deserves to know what?” Sara said from behind them.

Leonard turned, a witty retort loaded and ready, but it jammed in his throat as he looked at Sara.

He hadn’t been there when Thea had picked it out, but it was like she was dressed for him. That same bright blue of the dress he’d bought for her. Lace covered her shoulders and arms, delicate and functional. It hit the floor, but when she moved, he could see the flash of her leg through a well concealed slit. Her hair looked golden against the blue, her eyes reflecting the color back.

“You look beautiful,” he said. He couldn’t even come up with something more interesting to say.

Still, her nerves from earlier seemed to dissipate with the ineloquent compliment, and she smiled, making Leonard’s heart stutter. He held out his arm and she took it, leaving Thea and Mick to bring up the rear.

The room was full of black ties and fancy finery. Music was just loud enough to be heard over the conversations, without being overwhelming. A large stage was off to one side, with images of the supertrain they were unveiling tomorrow, the route and cabins. The smells of food and hors de hourves wafted from every tray that drifted by on the hands of a waiter. A large portion of the room seemed dedicated to a dance floor, and it was to this Thea dragged Mick almost immediately. Leonard and Sara watched the comic differences in height for a long moment, then he spotted a bar over in the corner.

“Want something to drink?” he asked.

Sara was looked across the room, her eyes following a figure in a dark suit, two security guards behind him. He was a good looking man, but no signs of a smile were anywhere near his face. He was an intimidating man to most.

Leonard noticed and spoke in her ear. “That’d be Mayor Queen. Thea’s brother.”

“And I have to convince him?” she asked quietly.

“You’ve got this,” Leonard assured her. “Don’t worry. Let me get you a drink.” She still seemed nervous, but nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” Leonard said, not wanting to leave her, but needed her to know he was comfortable here, that she should be confident.

She nodded and Leonard drifted off to the bar, getting in line behind a few others. He looked back at Sara on the edge of the dance floor, knowing that these were his last few moments with her.

He was nearly to the bar when a hand wrapped around his upper arm and pulled him roughly out of the crowd.

* * *

Dinah’s eyes followed Leonard movements to the bar, uncomfortable here amid the glitz and the glitter of Star City’s most wealthy and influential. He was nearly there when her gaze was blocked by a man in a completely black suit, decorated with medals and pins.

“Good evening, miss…?”

“Good evening,” she responded, keeping the name to herself. She wasn’t sure when the big reveal would be, and she wasn’t about to jump the gun without Leonard’s say-so.

He smiled. “Would you like to dance?”

There was something about the smile that made her skin crawl. The amount of medals and commendations notwithstanding. He jingled as he just stood there in front of her; dancing would be a spectacle.

“Thank you, but no. I’m waiting for my date.”

“You seem familiar,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly. She hated to admit it, but she felt the same way about him. There was something in the way his head tilted, the way his eyes peered at her that jogged something in her memory. “Have we met?”

“I don’t believe so.” She pretended to catch a glimpse of someone she knew and waved beyond the man’s shoulder. “Excuse me.”

Once she was far enough away in the crowd, she turned back to track that man, something discomforting about him lying on her shoulders. He was heading to the bar as well, but paused, catching sight of someone in the crowd. Dinah, on some instinct, was already moving when she saw the man grab Leonard’s arm and haul him to the side of the room. She couldn’t see Mick in the crowd and knew she didn’t have enough time to find him.

She ghosted after them, following them as the larger man shoved Leonard past the door to a stairwell. She caught the edge before it shut and listened in on the conversation, holding her breath.

“...son of a bitch, what the hell are you doing here?”

Without the face, the voice was even more familiar, this man sounded like Leonard, if Leonard lost every bit of warmth or humor or humanity.

She knew who he was.

“Came to see your big show, Commissioner. Congratulations,” Leonard drawled easily, his tone cold, like it had been the first time they’d met.

“I prayed you were already in a ditch somewhere, you piece of shit.”

“Mutual.”

A thud echoed from the stairwell and Dinah couldn’t hold back. She swung the door open and stepped through, letting it close behind her.

Leonard drew himself up, his hand leaving his mouth to show a stain of red. His eyes widened slightly when he realized who’d come through. “Doll, don’t-”

“This is your date?” the other man interrupted, gesturing behind him with split knuckles.

“Touch him again,” Dinah said quietly, “and I’ll break your arm.”

“What the hell is this?” the man said, turning on Leonard. “You hire chick bodyguards, now?”

Leonard shifted past him to get to Dinah’s side. “Wouldn’t need her if it wasn’t for you, Lewis. Doll,” he said, wiping his mouth again, “meet my dad.”

Dinah could see the resemblance now, if everything good about Leonard had been removed. The coldness, the hardness, that was all the same. But Leonard used that to cover the parts of him only those close to him deserved to see. They were all that the other man had to offer.

Dinah stared at Leonard’s father and wondered how he could have produced a son that was so much better than himself. It seemed impossible.

Leonard took her shoulder and turned her towards the door. “Goodbye.”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Lewis said. “I’m the commissioner. I’m arresting you - stealing evidence, arson-”

“Shut up,” Leonard said, the usual extensive vocabulary fading as Leonard glared at his father.

“-Murder.”

Leonard would have tackled Lewis to the ground had Dinah not stopped him.

As it was, he snarled from her hands, “You son of a bitch!”

“Not sure the little girl would agree,” Lewis mocked. Dinah nearly let go of Leonard then, but she ignored it, pushing aside her questions for later.

“Bastard-” Leonard spat out.

“Len,” Dinah said quietly. “Please. Let’s go.”

“You’re gonna stay right where you are,” Lewis ordered, grabbing his phone. “You’re both under arrest.”

Leonard drew in a deep breath and smiled. “No can do, Lewis.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

Leonard looked at her and she knew what he wanted her to do. No going back now.

“We have a meeting,” Dinah chimed in. “With the mayor.”

“Yeah, and who the hell are you to get a meeting with him?” Lewis snapped.

Dinah raised her chin. “I’m Sara Lance.”

* * *

Leonard grinned as Sara announced herself to Lewis, her voice just arrogant enough to make it feel real. It wasn’t ideal, revealing her to Lewis so early, but the bastard had caught him by surprise, and if they’d been arrested, there was no telling what accidents might occur in the time it took to get freed.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand as Lewis’s mouth moved silently. They left the stairwell and he wove them through the crowd until they came close to the mayor. Their timeline was moving up, but it was still manageable. When he saw Queen, he paused, realizing he still held Sara’s hand in his. He dropped it and pulled out his phone to text Mick. This was it.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll set them up, then you come in and-”

“Knock them down?” she finished for him.

“Exactly.” He turned, seeing Mick move around the other side, but Sara grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Len, wait.”

He would have frozen in place if that’s what she asked, so he stopped and faced her, watching something turn behind her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Look, we’ve been through a lot together, and I...I just wanted to…”

Leonard held his breath, “Yes?”

“I...thank you. For everything.”

His smile was tight and he cursed himself for once again forgetting the truth. “Sure.” He turned away, but as he did, he saw her mouth turn down, and her eyes drop. And dammit, he couldn’t stop himself when he turned back.

“Doll-”

She looked up at him, her eyes glowing and bright, not afraid any longer. Not distrustful or suspicious, but staring at him like he was the most important thing in her world. No one had ever looked at him like that, not once.

“I...I’m…” as he choked on the simplest words, his mind jumpstarted, reminding him again why he couldn’t say anything.

He was only the most important thing because she didn’t yet know the truth. And when she did, she’d have a life, and a family, and a home. And girls like her didn’t end up with criminals like him. He wouldn’t trap her in anything.

“I wanted to say good luck. Not that you’ll need it,” he finished quietly.

“Oh,” she said, the disappointment obvious. “Thanks.”

“Right.” Before he could mess it up, Leonard turned and pushed his way through the crowd, nodding at Mick on the other side.

He caught sight of Thea, who mouthed something to him, but Mayor Queen was already turning to face him.

“Mayor Queen,” Leonard said, standing up straight, holding out his hand.

Oliver Queen took the proffered hand, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“I was hoping to have a word with you,” Leonard said, his eyes darting over Oliver’s shoulder to see Lewis on the edge of the crowd, his head swinging back and forth as he scanned the crowd for Leonard and Sara. This was unraveling too quickly, he had to-

“By all means,” Oliver said. His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m more than intrigued by the words of you, Mr. Leonard Snart.”

That drew Leonard’s attention. He stilled, his hand dropping from Oliver’s.

Oliver didn’t call for the cops or security. But his expression made it clear that he had very little patience for Leonard. So he spoke quickly.

“A long time ago, there was an accident for which I was blamed. I spoke out against Commissioner Snart.”

“And then were discharged from the police force for corruption.”

“Conveniently timed,” Leonard said, keeping his voice steady.

Oliver arched a brow in acknowledgement and gestured for Leonard to continue.

“There was only one person other than myself or Lewis that could have disproven what I said. But she was gone, thought dead.”

“Thought,” Oliver echoed, his polite expression fading as he caught up with what Leonard was leading up to.

“Sara Lance is alive. And I’ve brought her-”

“Snart,” Thea said, rushing up to Oliver’s side, “wait-”

“You know this man?” Oliver said, turning towards his sister. “How in the world-”

Leonard ignored that, “Mayor Queen, you have to listen, Sara Lance is in Star City, she’s alive and-”

“What?”

The conversation of the siblings stuttered to a stop at that voice. Leonard turned, his heart dropping somewhere into his stomach as he faced former Commissioner Quentin Lance. Though it had been many years since Leonard had seen him, the tall frame was unbowed, his eyes still bright. The scruff on his face and the wrinkles in his suit were the only things to speak to his depression. He put on a good front. But Leonard saw the other true victim of what his father had done and faltered.

“Officer Lance, I-”

“No, no, it’s Mr. Lance. Not officer. Partially thanks to you.” His steely eyes bore down onto Leonard, who, for the first time in a very long time, felt quite small. “Mr. Leonard Snart. You were responsible for the death of my daughter-”

“Sir, I-”

“And I’ve heard you were holding auditions in Gotham for girls who would resemble her? Trying to pass off someone as my daughter?” He stepped forward and it took a lot for Leonard not to move. “What are you looking for? Revenge? Want to finish off what you started and ruin me completely?”

“Mr. Lance, I didn’t-”

“Haven’t you done enough?” Quentin asked quietly. “Get out of my sight before I have you arrested.”

“Wait-”

Mick came up from where he’d apparently been listening, grabbing Leonard’s arm and pulling him away. “Come on, boss.”

The people parted in front of them, a few yards away from Quentin, and then Mick dropped him.

“What the hell happened?” Mick asked. “You were talking for two seconds and-”

He looked up to see Sara, her eyes hard. God, she’d heard all of it. Leonard took a step towards her, but Sara turned her back and walked away.

“Sara,” Leonard called, ignoring the glares of the people around him. He pushed past, catching up to her. “Sara, wait.”

“No,” she hissed, walking away from him. “The commissioner was one thing, but you lied to me! You said you didn’t know Sara Lance, but you did, and you didn’t just know that little girl was dead, you were responsible! And you...you were going to make me lie to her  _ father _ , Len. Her father!”

“Let me explain.” He grabbed her hand. “The truth-”

“Were you responsible for her death?”

He couldn't lie. Not anymore. “I thought I was, yes, but-”

She tore away from his grasp, “You lied to me."

"I know, but-"

You said no one would get hurt!” It wasn't clear who she meant.

“Sara-” Leonard followed her through the crowd, ignoring the glares of people as he chased her.

“Don’t call me that!”

They exited the building, ignoring the rain that was beginning to fall, and Sara was still trying to get away from him. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to face him. Rain sluiced down, ruining his suit, her hair, the damn blue dress, they were both soaked through in moments and it was like he was back on the ship, clinging to Sara Lance, but this time it wasn’t her who was drowning, it was him, drowning in her, and maybe if he just held on tightly enough-

“You have to listen-”

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear another word you have to say,” she hissed, her eyes wet and the makeup beginning to smear, unrelated to the rain.

“You talked about the boat and the cop." He had to make her know. "Sara, I was-”

“I don’t want to hear about anything I said when I was with you. I can’t believe I thought that you...that you and me…” she stopped herself and walked down the steps, pushing through the crowd, her hand raised to hail a cab.

“Sara,” Leonard said, grabbing her arm and spinning her towards him. “You have to-”

His words were cut off as her hand cracked across his face, an open handed slap that silenced him. It stung, though he knew despite her anger she’d gone easy on him. Besides, that didn’t hurt nearly as much as her next words.

“Don’t ever touch me again, Snart. We’re done.”

He stood there, stunned, aching, wondering how this had gone so wrong, and Sara got into a cab and drove away, leaving him behind.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than last time.

Two hours later, the party inside had died down, people heading back home to their families and friends. Conversations filled the damp air, the puddles reflecting the light of cars and the glitter of dresses and jewels. Wet tires echoed from the street, carrying their passengers where they wanted to be.

Leonard sat on the steps, his coat over his knee. No one looked twice at him as they walked by, too wrapped up in themselves. Not even his father saw him. For a moment, as Mayor Queen stepped past him, Leonard thought he hesitated. But the moment passed, and Leonard couldn’t bring himself to question it. Thea and Mick had yet to be seen, but Leonard couldn’t force enough worry to go and look for them.

He was spent. Too much planning and plotting and caring and what did he have to show for any of it? What did he have to show for the past 15 years of his life?

A broken bracelet and a wet coat.

The second he began thinking about, he’d spiraled down. So much for his revenge. Lewis would walk away scot free and now that he knew Leonard had been after him...

Lewis would be coming after him, Mick, maybe Thea if he saw that bit. And Sara-

Sara.

He’d screwed her out of more than safety. She’d now lost her home, her name, her family, her past life, all because he didn’t plan for this. And now, where was she going to go? The League had freed her, but there was nowhere for her now, and if Lewis found her and she was alone-

Quentin Lance coughed into his hand as he walked by, heading to one of the idling cabs parked on the edge of the street. The driver motioned him in, finishing his cigarette.

No. No, Leonard could still do something about this. He could fix this.

Leonard stood and crossed the street, ignoring the blaring horns. A reckless feeling had consumed him, nothing else mattering than to proving to  _ someone  _ that he was telling the truth. Even if the one he really wanted to convince was already long gone. He slid past the driver as Quentin shut his door, jamming the locks and peeling away from the street.

“Whoa,” Quentin said, sliding along the leather seats, “slow down. You don’t even know where I wanna go.”

Leonard kept his eyes straight, speeding them towards Verdant.

Quentin leaned forward, grasping at the plexiglass between them, “Hey, man, slow down, I’m-” he cut himself off as a streetlight revealed Leonard’s countenance. “Snart,” he snarled.

Leonard ignored that.

“Pull over right now. You think you’re gonna take me down now, after everything-”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Leonard snapped. “I never was.”

“Then what the hell do you want with me?” Quentin snapped.

“You have to at least see her.”

“I’m not looking at anyone you have to show me, you bastard-” he pulled at the door, but it remained locked.

“You don’t have a choice,” Leonard muttered. He slid the plexiglass between them shut and continued driving.

The rest of the ride went by in tense silence, only the sounds of the blinker and tires across wet asphalt to break the quiet. Leonard pulled up outside Verdant and turned off the car.

He got out and straightened his coat before stalking over to the passenger side of the backseat. Wrenching open the door, Leonard was not entirely surprised to see Quentin aiming a gun at his middle. He didn’t back down, righteous fury and guilt tearing through him and making his supposedly indomitable self-preservation take a night off. His knuckles white on the car door, Leonard stared death in the face and couldn’t bring himself to step aside.

“You will step away from this car or I will fire,” Quentin warned, his voice cold and detached, broken because of what Lewis had done.

Because of what Leonard had done.

“You have three seconds,” Quentin added. “Three. Two.”

“I don’t care if you shoot me. You have to see her,” Leonard insisted.

Neither of them moved, the gun trained on Snart’s chest not wavering.

Quentin’s eyes narrowed. “I know this is a con. Why are you doing this? What do you possibly have to gain?”

“If it’s a con, nothing,” Leonard agreed.

“And if it isn’t?” Quentin pressed, his teeth barely parting to form the words. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because she…” Leonard paused, unsure. Then he shook his head. “She deserves better. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Quentin hesitated and Leonard’s shoulders sagged. He dropped his gaze and sighed, stepping aside. He couldn’t force Lance. He wouldn’t. But he was tired. So damn tired of all of this. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out the piece of Sara Lance he’d carried with him all this time, since the day he lost her and found it wrapped in his fist when he woke up. A silver bracelet, with a canary charm on it.

He held it out to Quentin. “Please.”

The click of the gun uncocking made him flinch, but he glanced up, seeing Quentin step out of the car and close the door behind him. He straightened his jacket, looking down at Leonard with anger, but faint resignation. “Two minutes.” He took the canary bracelet with shaking fingers, and Leonard didn’t comment on it.

“She’s upstairs. First door on the left.”

* * *

Dinah’s room was a disaster. She didn’t have much, but somehow, in her fury, it had scattered to every corner of the small apartment. She tried to move quickly, afraid that any moment Leonard or Mick might walk in and she would lose her nerve, already fading the uncertainty of tomorrow. But she couldn’t stay, not now that she knew-

Leonard wasn’t a good man, she knew that. And when his father had hinted of his hand in Sara Lance’s death, she hadn’t believed him. But then, seeing how skillfully he was playing Quentin, Queen, even her...then when he admitted that he had a hand in that little girl’s death-

How was she supposed to believe anything that he had said or seemed to feel? How could she trust her own feelings when they’d made such a muck of her head? Maybe the League had been right. Maybe she wasn’t strong enough for this kind of life.

Never mind, she would get out of here before anyone else got back and be on the road before they thought to look for her. Not that she knew where she would go, or what she would do.

Or who she would be.

A knock at the door made Dinah flinch. “Go away, Leonard.” She continued to shove things into her bag, ignoring the noise and trying to move faster. She ignored how her hands started to shake.

The door opened and she spun towards him, wanting to scream at him, to push him away, to have him somehow make this okay, apologize, afraid that he didn’t care enough to fix it, afraid that he did-

But it wasn’t Leonard who stood in the door. It was the man she’d seen him talking to. Quentin Lance. Sara’s father.

The sweatshirt in Dinah’s hand dropped onto the top of the bag, her fingers numb as she faced him head on.

He was tall and thin, lean, while at the same time looking like he was barely hanging on. His eyes were hard as steel, but they looked anywhere but at her. He looked strong, but a man whose strength was starting to decline.

“I…” she trailed off, not knowing what to make of him or his presence here. “I’m sorry, I thought you were-”

“Yeah, I know who you thought I was. I would’ve yelled at him, too.” He walked in, the accent jogging something, shaking his head. “Damn, you’re good. Should’ve expected you’d be, what with working with Snart and all, but-”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “I’m so sorry. He said it was to hurt a bad person, that no one else would get hurt. Otherwise, I never would’ve-” She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “That’s a lie. I would have. I needed…”

Quentin’s arms were crossed, but he appeared to be listening. “Needed what? What were you gonna get out of this? Money?”

“No,” Dinah said quietly, sinking onto the edge of the bed. “No, he was going to give me papers. A new name.”

“You running from something?” He didn’t sound like he cared that much, but more like he was just trying to understand why she’d done this.

“I was. But not anymore. They’ve...renounced me. No need to run. Now I don’t have any name. I’m not Dinah, I’m not Ta-er al-Sahfer-”

“Who?”

“It’s the name I was given when I was taken to Nanda Parbat,” she said, so tired of lying anymore. So tired of all of it. Of everything. “They found me and since I didn’t remember anything, they named me after my necklace.” She pulled it out from beneath the sweatshirt she’d put it on. “It means-”

“Canary,” Quentin finished, his arms unknotting and dropping towards his sides. He crossed the room in two large steps, reaching out and lifting the charm off her neck to look at. “Where did you- How?”

“I don’t know. I’ve always had it.” She got to her feet and Quentin stepped back to give her room, never letting go of her necklace. “I didn’t remember anything, but I always had this.”

Quentin reaching into his pocket, pulling out a charm that was exactly like the one around her neck, just on a thin silver bracelet. Something in her mind shifted, the opening of a long sealed door. She inhaled, the smell of gunpowder and polish resonating within her and she had to close her eyes to ground herself.

“Sara was so angry about sharing Christmas with her birthday,” Quentin said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She hated it. So the day after, I took her out to breakfast, just her and me. And I gave her this necklace and the matching bracelet. She loved it. When we came home, Laurel and her mother had set up the big present, the-”

“The canary,” she finished, looking up and meeting Quentin’s eyes. “I loved the way it sang, and I made Laurel promise to record it when we went on the trip. The boat. And then the storm-”

She turned away, and Quentin dropped the charm, giving her space as her head filled in the gaps of her past with memories of her mother and sister, of Star City, of the boat trip and Leonard trying to save her-

And the man standing behind her.

She looked back at him, her eyes wide, her mouth parted in amazement and fear and panic as everything came into place, what if she was wrong, but she couldn’t be-

“Sara…?” he asked quietly, the word broken, but pieced together, ready to shatter all over again, but still extended towards her.

And she knew, she  _ knew _ , that she had found her name.

“Dad?”

Quentin’s laugh was broken with tears, but he gathered her up in his arms and held her so closely the buttons on his coat would leave marks. But she clung to him just as tightly, her heart expanding to hold all the memories of the people she’d forgotten, who’d never stopped loving her.

Sara Lance hugged her father and remembered.

* * *

Outside the door, leaning against the railing, Leonard listened to the conversation that escaped through the frame. He heard Quentin say her name, that hesitation broken by hope, disbelief.

And how Sara’s voice cracked when she said, “Dad?”

Pushing away from the catwalk, Leonard slipped his hands into his pockets and walked away. He wasn’t going to interrupt their reunion. He didn’t need to goodbye.

Like he’d said, she deserved better.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, guys! But I wrote and self-published a book on Amazon and I've been going through that whole rigmarole for a few days. It's called Inked: A Book of Mixed Up Fairy Tales, by me! Caitlin Mullowney.
> 
> But anyway, here what you really came for: a new chapter.

“...then we wound up here,” Sara finished, her voice hoarse from talking. She reached for the glass of water and took a large sip, the silence in the room almost deafening.

Mayor Queen stared at her over steepled fingers before sighing and sitting back in his chair. “That is quite the tale.”

She didn’t disagree, her eyes darting over to Quentin who stood in the corner.

“You’re corroborating it?” Queen turned to her father -  _ father  _ \- and asked.

“I am. She’s my Sara.” He smiled at her and she couldn't help her answering expression.

Queen caught the exchange and his own face softened slightly. “Well, as happy as I am for you, this complicates a few things. First off, the issue of Mr. Snart-” Sara started, but he gestured and a man stepped forward. “Let SCPD know that we have a bolo out for former Commissioner Lewis Snart. As for the younger Mr. Snart and his accomplices, which apparently include my sister...technically, they haven’t done anything wrong, as the one who was impersonating turned out to be, in fact, real.” He looked at Quentin as the man he was speaking to disappeared out the door. “You are the wronged party here, would you like to press charges for the abduction from the gala?”

“I would not.”

“I didn’t think so.” He turned to Sara, “As for Lewis, the statute of limitations doesn’t apply here. And I’m to understand you’re going forward with the charges?”

“Yes,” she said. She wasn’t certain why, other than she knew Lewis was horrible and if she didn’t, he might go after those who had brought this about-

“He may try to come after you. Him or those he controls.”

“I know.”

Queen nodded and made a mark on his paper. “As for the matter of the reward-”

“I’d like to handle that,” Quentin said. “There are a few things I’d like to discuss.”

“Wonderful. I have some additional paperwork to include.” He met Sara’s eyes for a moment, then nodded at Quentin, “I’d like a word with Sara, if you don’t mind.”

“‘Course.” Quentin squeezed her shoulder, then left, closing the door behind him.

Sara met Mayor Queen’s eyes, and he stared at her for a very long moment.

“Lewis Snart tried to have you killed as a child to promote his career,” Queen said, his voice short. “There is a concern that he’ll try again. Quentin has resources, and I’ve offered additional security, but if you feel that more-”

“No,” she interrupted. “We don’t need anymore.”

He hummed quietly, marking something off on his paper. “As for Leonard Snart and Mick Rory, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that if they try to use their assistance in returning you as a way to lever themselves into a higher position-”

“They wouldn’t.”

“They will be pardoned for their past crimes. That doesn’t excuse them for future ones.” He tapped his pen on the paper, then sighed and raised his eyes to her. “Off the record, the same goes for you.”

Sara’s gaze narrowed slightly, “I’m not sure-”

“I know the types of people who train in Nanda Parbat,” he said coolly. “If you’re done with that life, then we have nothing to discuss. The past is the past. If, however, you return to your old ways, we’ll be meeting again under less than pleasant circumstances.”

With a long moment between them, Sara nodded. “I understand.”

“I’ve not seen Quentin this happy in years. Since Laurel’s passing, a lot of us worried that he might never recover. I’m glad you’re here for him,” Queen said, getting to his feet. “Should you need anything, don’t hesitate to let us know. Welcome home.”

“Thank you,” Sara responded, shaking his proffered hand. “I’m lucky to have made it back.”

“Good thing you had friends in low places,” Queen said, opening the door for her.

“Yeah,” Sara echoed, painfully reminded that she hadn’t seen nor heard from either of the criminals since the other evening. “Good thing.”

* * *

Leonard stepped out of the bar with a sigh, mentally crossing off another name on his list. Getting back into Central City under the radar was difficult, but it shouldn’t prove this impossible. Criminals in Star City were weak and too scared to step out of line, not with the Arrow vigilante on the loose. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he considered his next move, making to step off the sidewalk. A car screeched to a halt in front of him, the black and white doors making him smother a curse.

A boy in blue stepped out of the driver’s side door. “Mr. Snart?”

“Unfortunately,” Leonard responded, his shoulders tense enough to ache.

“I’ve got someone who’d like a word, if you don’t mind taking a short drive.”

“Is this someone in black robes?” Leonard asked, knowing he really didn’t have much of a choice.

“No, sir.”

He shrugged, opening up the back door and sliding in. What’s the worst that could happen?

The cop didn’t speak as he drove them through the main streets of Star City. Leonard kept track of where they were, but didn't pay much more attention to it. So when they pulled up outside a small, white house, it took him a moment to realize where they were.

“Dammit,” he muttered as the cop let him out of the backseat.

The cop didn’t comment. “I’ll be waiting to drop you off wherever you’d like to go afterwards.”

“Thanks,” he drawled, straightening his coat. He stepped past the mailbox labeled Lance and took the two steps to the door. He raised his hand and-

Hesitated.

Shaking his head, he knocked loudly, returning his hand to his pocket.

Footsteps echoed inside and Leonard steeled himself. The door swung open-

It was Quentin.

Letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, Leonard nodded at Quentin. “Mr. Lance.”

“Mr. Snart. Didn’t think you’d show, honestly.”

“Caught me at a good time.”

“Sure.” He stepped back and gestured inside. “Let’s chat a minute.”

Quentin closed the door behind Leonard as he stepped inside, then led him down a short hallway. The house was small, but quaint. A staircase just inside the front door leading upstairs. The opposite way they went held a small dining room and led to, he presumed, a kitchen. The hallway opened up to a small den, filled with pictures of Quentin’s family. The back room, where Quentin opened up, seemed to be his office. Quentin’s accomplishments as commissioner prior to him quitting. Files and papers from old cases. Mugshots of the criminals he’d captured.

Taking a seat behind the rickety desk, Quentin allowed Leonard to look at the images on the wall for a moment before speaking. “Did you hear the news?”

“What news would that be?” he asked, leaning against the wall. He didn’t bother to hide his annoyance. They both knew that if Leonard wanted to talk, Quentin wouldn’t have had to send out a cop car to find him.

“Commissioner Snart, arrested and dishonorably removed from office and brought up on charges ranging from attempted murder to embezzling. He’s being sent back to Central City to stand trial.”

“Good,” was all Leonard had to say about it. It meant getting back into Central City would be easier. He’d hoped that hearing Lewis was arrested would have been more satisfying, but it wasn’t. Not that Lewis didn’t deserve it, but it didn’t matter now as much as he thought it would.

Quentin stared at him for a long moment, and Leonard felt like he was being judged against something, but he didn't know what. He didn’t know if he came up wanting.

“You were going to use her.” Quentin didn’t bother with the small talk any longer. “What for?”

There was no point in hiding any longer. “Exactly what happened. Discredit Lewis.”

“Are you satisfied?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He refused to try and explain himself. He’d done enough of that and no one had listened. It didn’t matter anymore.

“I remember you, you know,” Quentin said, leaning back in his chair. It squeaked slightly. “As a cop. You were good. Better than your dad was at your age.”

“Don’t know that that’s much of a compliment,” Leonard responded.

“Are you happy?” Quentin asked. This was slightly different.

Leonard let out a slow breath. “Lewis was arrested. I got what I wanted.”

Quentin stared at him. “Don’t lie to me, Snart. We’ve had enough of that. You gave in. You dropped the con. It’s only ‘cause Sara insisted that they even pushed the matter of Lewis. So why the change of mind?”

He didn’t speak for a long moment, trying to get his thoughts organized, the name Quentin so casually dropped making his orderly mind scatter. “Because it’s really her. I lost everything when I tried to save her. And though I hated you and Lewis and every single thing that led up to my discharge, I never hated her. She deserved better. And now she’s here and…”

“And?” Quentin said, her voice revealing he already suspected what Leonard was trying to hide - to bury.

He hated himself for being unable to say it loudly. “It was a change of heart.”

“So you’re leaving.”

“Nothing left to stay for.”

“You sure about that?” Quentin didn’t wait for an answer, but stood, picking up a manilla envelope from the desk and putting a check on top of it. “I will never be able to repay what you did. But the reward-”

“I don’t want it,” Leonard interrupted. The money had never mattered to him, anyway.

“It’s a lot of cash, kid. You’re gonna need it.”

He forced a smile. “I don’t need anything.”

Removing the check, Quentin passed him the envelope anyway. “Fine. But there are a few things in there you will need. Like it or not.” When Leonard opened his mouth to argue, Quentin sighed, “Just take it. Please.”

Leonard did, every intention of throwing it out as soon as he left. He stared at the beige envelope, playing with the tab in a moment of unfamiliar discomfort. “Is she alright?”

“She’s alive. That’s more than I ever dreamed,” Quentin said, not even a thought of hiding his relief from Leonard. “She’s adjusting, but I think she would’ve been a lot worse off without you around.”

Leonard didn’t agree or disagree. Maybe. Maybe she would’ve trusted people a little more before him.

“I’ll see myself out,” Leonard said, grabbing the handle.

“I don’t say this lightly, Snart,” Quentin called out from his seat, not trying to follow him or stop him, “but if you ever need anything, anything I can do for you, I’ll do it. No questions. No strings.”

That was a large promise. Leonard didn’t doubt that Quentin meant it, he just doubted that he’d ever feel up to asking for anything. There was only one thing he wanted, and it was the only thing he couldn’t get, asked for or otherwise.

“Goodbye, Snart.”

“Goodbye, Officer Lance,” Leonard retorted, shutting the door behind him. Outside the office door, he took a moment to inhale deeply. It wasn’t that the interaction had been negative. In fact, it was one of the positive interactions he’d ever had with any cop, let alone the father of the girl he supposedly killed.

He headed towards the door, when a figure appeared in front of him. Only one person could walk around a house this old without making a sound.

“Dad, did you-”

Sara trailed off as she looked up, seeing Leonard instead of her father. Her eyes widened and she took a step towards him. “Len?”

He couldn’t speak, something choking his voice back down. She was dressed in plain jeans and a sweatshirt, socks that were two different colors. She looked comfortable. Happy. She finally knew who she was, where her home was. It was everything she ever wanted. Everything he’d wanted for her. He’d be selfish to ask for anything from her now.

“I didn’t think I’d see you, how did you-” She stopped herself, her gaze dropping to the envelope in his hands. “Oh.” The happiness he hadn’t anticipated faded away and her eyes hardened, her expression closing off as she took a step back. “Got what you came for?” It was a strange tone he’d never heard from her. A little angry, a little sad.

“Yes.” No.

“When do you leave?” she asked.

“As soon as possible.” He walked towards her, towards the door, but for a moment, she didn’t move out of his way. He was forced to stop, directly in front of her. He could smell the mustiness of the sweater that Quentin must have dug out from storage. Her shampoo. The scent of coffee on her breath from a lazy afternoon. The kind of life she deserved. The kind of life he couldn’t give her.

Then she moved, letting him slide past her and he did, before he did something he regretted. He got to the door before, in what he was coming to know as Lance fashion, she spoke.

“Goodbye, Leonard.”

He didn’t look back, but couldn’t keep the words from coming out. “Goodbye, doll.”

Exiting their house, the cold wind felt all the more biting. Pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders, he got into the back of the car. “The Verdant.”

The cop nodded and took off, not saying anything else.

He opened the envelope once they hit the road and pulled out the papers inside. It was a packet filled with paragraph upon paragraph of legal terms and words like “distinction” and “above and beyond” and “credit to their city”. Both his and Mick’s name were at the top.

On the top was a single yellow sticky note. In an untidy scrawl, Leonard read:

_ Mr. Snart, _

_ Surprisingly, it really was a pleasure to meet you. Enjoy the pardon. If you’re interested in your old job, I have a detective in Central City who owes me a favor. Tickets are on me. _

_ Mayor Queen. _

With a frown, Leonard looked at the bottom of the envelope, where two tickets were sitting. First class seats on the supertrain back to Central City, leaving tomorrow.

So. That was how this ends.

He got everything he wanted. His father was paying for his crimes. He and Mick would no longer be hunted down. He could see his sister. He could return home. He could go back to being a cop. Everything he’d hoped for, he’d achieved. He closed the packet and stared out the window.

So why the hell did he feel like he’d lost everything?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If you like the first book of Inked, it's available on paperback now! Also, the second part is available, ebook only for the moment, until I finish all the superfun formatting. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading this or Inked, or anything else. I can't tell you how much it means.

The sun ricocheted off the bright silver metal of the supertrain. Sara stared at it from behind the barriers, a fuzzy reflection of gold and blue returned to her.

“Too fancy for me,” Quentin muttered from beside her.

Sara smiled up at her father as he frowned at the computer monitors displaying the state of the art, self driving piece of machinery. It was a technological breakthrough all the way from Central City’s S.T.A.R. Labs, and it was about to make history with its maiden voyage. The tickets distributed to the first passengers were few and far between, having been gifted to the Mayors and other chief personnel.

“Everything with wheels outta have a driver,” Quentin added as they turned away from the train to join the crowds milling beneath awnings stretching between trees. It was chilly enough that Sara had to grab a jacket from the closet. The white leather didn’t exactly match the blue dress she’d put on out of habit, but when Quentin had seen her, he looked at her for a long moment with a smile, then said, “That was Laurel’s jacket. She would’ve wanted you to have it.”

Sara felt slightly underdressed in the dress Leonard had bought for her, especially when Mayor Queen came over to say hello, but soon the gathering was mixed with all kinds, and some far more underdressed than she. So she accepted the flute of champagne from a waiter and hung around the edges of the group.

Off to the side, a small groups of cops milled around. Sara drifted closely enough to hear a few words.

“...Snart’s been placed into custody on the train.”

“He’s C.C.P.D.’s problem, now.”

Her eyes darted to the train, seeing a figure surrounded by CCPD vests. She recognized his profile from the gala and resisted the urge to wave at Lewis.

Tipping her champagne back, she approached where her father stood by a group of trees away from the crowd. Quentin looked over the party and people and Sara found her way next to him.

He didn’t look at her right away, comfortable with quiet. Sara stood next to him, her eyes scanning the crowd.

“He’s not there,” Quentin said, still looking out over the throngs of people.

“I know he’s not, he-” she broke off, her eyes narrowing at her father as she went quiet.

“Gotcha,” he said, smiling, but not happy as he finally met her eye, turning to face her. “He’s something, that Snart kid. A little too serious, but a good head on his shoulders. Mostly.”

“Well, he’s gone. Took his reward and left,” she said, hating the bitterness that was on her tongue and in her stomach as she stated the truth. She looked past her father, failing to smooth the frown away from her face.

“It ain’t a bad life here, Star City,” Quentin said suddenly, turning his head to gesture at the crowds. “Get a good job. Get a small place to life. Good, quiet, normal life. But,” he said, his voice dropping a little, his eyes staring at her, within her, as he said what had been guiltily creeping up in her heart, “I wonder if good, quiet, and normal’s what you really want.”

“Of course it is,” Sara said immediately. It sounded false, even to her, so she turned to the truth. “I found my family. I found out who I was. I found you.” She squeezed his arm, stepping nearer.

“You did. And you’re always gonna have me, Sara-baby. But is that enough?”

He opened his arms slightly and Sara stepped into his embrace. It was warm and comforting, and she breathed in that new-familiar scent as Quentin held her a little too tightly, as if it was going to be the last time for a while.

“Look, Sara,” he said quietly, pulling away enough to see her face. “He didn’t take the money. I offered, and he didn’t take it. Didn’t ask for anything.”

“He…” she trailed off again, her eyes fighting to drop to the ground again.

“Knowing you’re okay, that you’re alive, is more than I ever thought possible.” He squeezed her tightly again. “And whatever happens, whatever you decide to do, you’re always gonna be my little girl. And I’m always gonna be here for you.”

Quentin stepped back, his eyes misting slightly as he took her hands and pressed a piece of paper into them. “Would’ve preferred not to have a criminal as a son-in-law, but I guess I can’t complain too much. He’s not so bad.”

Sara looked down at the paper and saw a ticket for the supertrain in her name. She stared at it until the words began to grow hazy, then looked up, “Dad, what-”

But Quentin had already moved away, chatting with Mayor Queen, his hands moving animatedly about something as Queen nodded along. There were fewer lines on his face than there were the night they’d met, he held himself a little taller.

The crowd jostled her from side to side as she stood, frozen in indecision. For years, decisions had been made for her, without her knowledge. Lewis’s decision to kill her. Nyssa’s decision to rescue her. Leonard’s decision to send her father up to her in the Verdant. All these life-changing moments, and she hadn’t played a part.

Now she had to.

* * *

Leonard gazed around the compartment despondently. It was far different from his most recent train ride. First class everything, five-star service. The television was completely digital, everything controlled by touchscreen and waving of the fancy silver wristband he’d been given. The doors unlocked with the wristband, the windows clouded and dimmed with a wave. Even his luggage, which included his and Mick’s guns, were stowed and claimed with the wristbands. It was the perfect example of everything he’d wanted and now he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You’re making a mistake,” Mick muttered from the chair in the corner. His head was leaning back against the chair, but he stared at Leonard through lowered lids.

“I don’t make mistakes,” Leonard retorted, turning his gaze to the window. He wasn’t looking for anyone, not really, but every flash of blonde hair made him doubletake. And every time he cursed himself for hoping.

He could feel Mick staring at him, until he finally sighed and looked at his partner. “What was I supposed to do, Mick? She has a life here. A family. I can’t give her anything like that.”

“You didn’t give her the chance to choose.”

“Rather not have the rejection, thanks,” he responded, looking back out the window.

“Or afraid she was gonna say yes.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Mick didn’t say anything and it irked Leonard to no end. Because he knew he was afraid. Afraid of the rejection. Afraid of the loss of whatever memories they had. Afraid of how she’d look at him now she knew everything about herself and her life.

And yes, afraid she’d say yes. Afraid of her choosing him, then leaving nonetheless when she realized he had nothing worthwhile to give the girl who’d been so wronged. Wrong by him, by his father, by the world.

Mick sat in expectant silence, waiting for whatever reason Leonard had for doing what he’d done. Waiting for any explanation of some kind. The tension continued to rise, until Mick broke, “Boss-”

“Enough, Mick,” Leonard said tiredly, closing his eyes. “Cops’ daughter don’t wind up with criminals.”

It was some time later when the lights clicked off asking passengers to remain in their cabins. Leonard and Mick immediately stood, and began to fight the throng to the bar carriage. Though the usually 10 hour, 600 mile trip was less than four hours now, it didn’t mean Leonard wasn’t going to need a drink.

They got to the front, where the bartenders were completely overwhelmed. Standing off to the side, Leonard waved the magic silver wristband that denoted him as a first class, VIP passenger. The bartender nodded and began to head over towards him.

The LED lights suddenly flickered off, the train jerking violently. Leonard grabbed onto the bar as people screamed around him. An older gentleman fell into him, knocking them both into the bar as glass shattered. Over the shouts of the bartenders to remain calm, and the shrieks and panicked conversations, Leonard heard a low humming of the system coming back online.

Then everything rebooted, and the train began picking up speed.

“Boss?” Mick said warily. Passengers fell into chairs as the train progressed faster than its original speed, uncomfortably pushing at their bodies and shifting the contents of Leonard’s stomach.

“Drivers?” Leonard asked one of the bartenders.

She stared at him, clearly not comprehending what he said in her state of panic.

“Where’s the driver?!” he repeated louder, leaning in and holding onto the bar for support.

“There aren’t any! The control room is up there, but there’re no drivers. They said it was all digital, they didn’t need them-”

“Well, they were wrong,” Leonard snapped. “Let’s go check it out, Mick.”

They trudged to the compartment’s door and Leonard waved his wristband. The screen blinked, random pieces of code appearing and disappearing, so he waved it again. With a hesitant blink and an off-tune beep, the door clicked open.

“Someone hacked the train?” Mick muttered. “Who the hell would’ve known how to get in?”

“Someone who oversaw the design,” Leonard said. “Someone from Central City.”

Mick caught on and glanced behind, watching their backs.

They made their way to the engineering room. Before they got through the next compartment, the train shuddered again, slowing almost to a stop. The lights continued to flicker ominously and Leonard thought of several curses for the brain trust behind this disaster. Highly computerized anything meant a hacker’s dream. There was a strange sound up ahead and Leonard frowned. The door in front of them opened, but no one was there. It should have been sealed. No one but someone with a silver wristband could have opened it. He stepped forward, not seeing anyone behind the door.

“Mick,” he muttered, “did you-“

“Boss!” Mick shouted.

Leonard spun, but the door behind him sealed off, he and Mick separated by a thick, steel door. Mick’s mouth was moving, unheard. Leonard waved his wrist, but there wasn’t even an attempt to read the band. The touchscreen remained dark and unresponsive.

He shrugged through the window at Mick, whose brow was drawn down low. Leonard gestured he was going to keep moving, and Mick shook his head vehemently. But frustrated, half-convinced he knew who it was, and without anything else to lose, Leonard ignored him and turned away. Reaching down, Leonard pulled out the knife at his boot, just in case. It wasn’t much, and would have much preferred to have his gun, but it was the best he could do.

The next two compartments were dark and empty, the train occasionally shuddering, and echoing thuds coming from below and above. Leonard found his eyes rising more than once, imagining they sounded like footsteps and unable to push away the memory of a similar situation.

The door was ajar in the next compartment, Leonard peering through to see two figures on the ground. He waited, not seeing any other movement, then slid in quietly. He knelt next to one of the prone figures, recognizing the blue of a CCPD uniform. He checked for a pulse, and found nothing. The cop didn’t have his firearm on him, but the other one had fallen oddly, landing on top of her firearm and hiding it from the ones who’d killed her. A set of empty handcuffs lay unlocked on the ground and Leonard straightened, gun in hand as he found the chamber only had two bullets left.

Voices echoed from the next and final compartment. Leonard edged closer, hugging the wall and the shadows and listening intently.

“...get the controls back up before we go,” Lewis was saying.

“That virus scrapped almost everything. I can’t get it back to normal speed. It’s all or nothing,” a second voice said.

Leonard got to the door, peering through to see one CC police officer at the controls and Lewis Snart at the side of the carriage, undoing the safety locks for the emergency cargo door. The bastard wasn’t going to escape, not after all this.

“Fine,” Lewis said. “Then give it all. They’ll be too busy trying to stop this thing to look for us.”

“But the passengers-”

“I don’t give a damn about the passengers,” Lewis snarled. “Get it going!”

There was the squeak of metal and Leonard knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He stepped out, gun raised. “Nobody’s going anywhere.”

Lewis turned, hatred burning in his eyes even as he grinned at him. Leonard could see a gun at his waist. The door was ajar, fresh air whistling in, even at the reduced speed. “Oh, son. I was so hoping you’d show up. I haven’t properly thanked you for bringing Sara Lance back. I have to admit, I’m impressed.”

“Step away from the door,” Leonard ordered, his eyes darting to the officer at the control panels. “Touch anything and I’ll shoot you.”

The cop glared, “You wouldn’t dare-”

Leonard cocked the gun and aimed it at the cop. “First in the academy for firearms. Wanna test me?”

Lewis moved and the gun swung back over to him.

“If you think I won’t drop you-”

“I think you would,” Lewis said, the smile fading. “That much we have in common. But I think you can’t stop both of us. And despite what you want other people to believe, you’re soft. You’ll save these one-percenters from death rather than kill me. Because you’re weak.”

The cop glanced at Lewis in shock. “Wait, but-”

“Do it!” Lewis snapped at him. “Now!”

The cop hesitated, his eyes darting between Lewis and Leonard.

“Don’t,” Leonard said quietly.

The cop moved, slamming his hand on the console and ducking down. The jerk of the train as it began picking up speed tilted Leonard to the side, and his shot grazed the cop’s shoulder. Lewis fell sideways, missing the door completely.

Gunfire erupted from behind the console, the cop drawing his weapon, and Leonard twisted behind the door to gain cover. He could hear his father grunting as he got to his feet and pushed the door open. As the train continued to speed up, the air whipped into the room, reaching under Leonard’s coat and pulling at his sweater. He was getting away, he couldn’t-

Leonard leaned out, but a gunshot ricocheted off the metal and he was forced back, he could just see the edge of the door if he backed up. His father almost had the door open. “Lewis!”

“So much for stopping me, Leonard!” Lewis shouted, laughing as he pushed the door open. “You never could!”

An impossible figure slid in through the cargo door, blonde hair tangled in knots, as she kicked forward, knocking Lewis back a few steps. She straightened and two blades appearing in her hands. Sara Lance grinned fiercely at Lewis. “Wanna bet?”

Leonard’s mouth dropped open, but the cop reacted quicker, two gunshots echoing towards Sara. Leonard stepped out, ignoring the lack of cover and dropped the cop with a shot through his good shoulder.

Before the cop hit the ground, Leonard was trudging towards Sara and Lewis, the velocity of the train making it more difficult. The open door pulled at his clothes and limbs and it was clearly affecting the combatants at the door.

Lewis had failed to draw his gun before Sara appeared; it looked like she had a hold of his wrist, keeping it confined at his waist. Her blade flashed, but Lewis seemed to avoid the worst of it, his bulk making it easier for him to withstand the push of the train.

Laboriously, Lewis took a step forward and Sara’s heel began to slip out the open door.

Leonard threw himself forward, knocking Lewis’s shoulder and making him let go of Sara. The two of them hit the wall, sliding to the ground. Sara fell to the other side of the door, clinging to the wall.

“You ruined everything!” Lewis shouted, spittle flying from the corner of his mouth.

“Good!” Leonard pressed the gun to Lewis’s middle and pulled the trigger.

And the empty chamber clicked.

Lewis grinned, reaching for his waist. The console sparked from behind them and the train shuddered, jerking the two of them to the side. Lewis threw his knee out and knocked Leonard to the ground. He slid, losing traction, and grabbed at the door frame, his leg sliding out the door and being sucking into the vortex of air beyond. Clinging to the frame, he tried to pull himself forward.

“Len!”

Sara threw herself towards the edge, grabbing his arm, pulling against the wind to try and get him to safety. Her fingers were hard against his skin, her eyes wide as she stared at him, straining to pull him to safety.

“How touching,” Lewis said, straightening behind Sara and reaching for his waist. The gun glittered in the sunlight.

“Go-” Leonard said, trying to pull free of her, “Sara, watch out!”

“The two of you together again, for the last time.” He lowered the gun, aiming it at Sara, who refused to let go of Leonard.

“Doll-” he pleaded, meeting her eyes.

“I’m not going to let you go,” she whispered, the words almost lost in the wind. “Promise.”

“Let’s finish what we started, Ms. Lance,” Lewis said.

Sara’s eyes narrowed and she heaved with all her might, as the gunshot echoed in the small chamber. Leonard felt her shudder, but she didn’t let go until he got his foot back inside the compartment. As soon as he started to rise, she dropped to her knees, red staining her shoulder.

“Sara!”

Leonard reached for her, but Lewis fired again, forcing them to duck down. The train was still speeding up. Sara pulled herself into a corner, passing Leonard a knife with a bloody hand.

“Go.”

He hesitated, “If we live through this-”

She smiled, her eyes tight, and squeezed his hand. “Go,” she repeated. Her eyes fluttered and closed, and she slumped against the wall.

Knife in a white-knuckled grip, Leonard hunched down, getting close to Lewis before rising. He moved too quickly, the gun couldn't aim properly in time, Sara’s knife flashed and Lewis shouted, dropping the gun as red pooled along his arm. The weapon clattered and bounced out the open door, vanishing.

“You useless excuse for a son!” Lewis shouted, grabbing Leonard’s jacket.

Leonard slammed his foot down onto Lewis’s, making him bend instinctively. He threw Lewis over his hip, watching as his father slipped towards the door, his hands grasping at the floor and finding nothing, grabbing at the frame and slipping, until they locked into the groove on the ground, ten fingers holding him from oblivion.

Leonard dropped the knife and took a step forward, hanging onto the frame, looking down on his father.

Lewis clung to the edge, his eyes wide as he started up at Leonard, “Don’t-”

Leonard stomped down on Lewis’s hand hard, “That’s for Quentin.” He stomped again, digging his heel until he felt Lewis’s hand give. “That’s for Sara.”

He ground his boot into his father’s remaining lifeline, staring him in the eye as he felt the fingers release, seeing his father’s face contort in pain and fear.

“That’s for me.”

He lifted his foot and his father vanished out the gap.

Leonard couldn’t take the time to realize what he’d done, he grasped for the controls, settling for shutting everything down. The train’s lights dropped again, the humming stopped, and it began to slow, brakes screeching as the supertrain came to an unexpected stop.

But Leonard didn’t hear any of that. As soon as the computers began to black out, he dropped to his knees next to Sara, pressing against the gunshot in her shoulder with one hand. His fingers found a pulse beating faintly and part of his panic subsided. He didn’t realize he was even speaking until his voice cracked, startling him. “Sara…come on, doll. Wake up. Sara, please.” He pressed a little tighter, adding his other hand, and tried not to look at the blood appearing between his fingers. “Doll, please. You can’t do this. I-”

Her eyelids fluttered and he only started to breathe when she coughed, straightening instinctively. Her eyes darted around the room immediately, her fingers reaching to the knife he’d dropped. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “Lewis-”

“He’s gone,” Leonard said.

Her hand lifted towards her shoulder, bumping against his hands. He couldn’t move, not when she was still bleeding, but she didn’t say anything. She looked up at him, pressing her hand over his.

He swallowed hard. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. You?”

“You could’ve died.”

“You almost did.”

He couldn’t argue that. “What were you thinking?”

“I couldn’t just let-”

The door screeched open, Mick and a contingent of SCPD’s finest with weapons drawn forcing their way in.

“Ms. Lance? What are you doing-”

“Blondie, what the fu-”

“What happened, Mr. Snart?”

“-to come with us.”

“...medics are on their way.”

The crowd of people swarmed around them, Leonard allowing himself to be pushed out once the emergency personnel arrived. His hands were covered in her blood and he simply stayed off to the side as they patched her up.

The officer was helped and taken into custody, as cars began pulling up outside the train. The whole console room was a disaster of people and noises, and Leonard stood off to the side, answering any questions thrown at him and staying out of the way. It seemed like hours before-

“Len.”

Leonard looked down, seeing Sara standing next to him. Her wound was bandaged and cleaned, the bloodied jacket gone. His heart twisted a little as he recognized the dress.

She reached out, taking his hand in hers. He didn’t pull away. 

“I thought you were staying in Star City,” he said quietly.

“I was. But then you left and I couldn’t…You didn’t take the-”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?” she asked, her blue eyes staring up at him as he held onto her, so familiar to him now, only this time he was the one who needed the saving, from something far worse than a bullet.

He swallowed, unable to lie to her, leaning down towards her, “Because, doll, I-”

“Ms. Lance!” There was a crowd of reporters without the train, and he saw Quentin’s face in the back of the crowd, anxious and drawn. Sara glanced over her shoulder at them, but didn’t let go of Leonard’s hand.

He fought to keep his voice level. “They’re waiting for you, doll.”

Sara turned away from them, looking up at Leonard. Her fingers tightened around his.

“I promised.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sweet, short way to finish this up. Anymore more felt too forced, anything less was a copout. I think this works well. :)

It was hours before they made it back to Star City. Mick and Leonard sat in silence in the back of a police cruiser, Sara in the passenger seat, and Quentin driving. The tension was palpable, and Leonard couldn’t keep his eyes off of Sara through the grate.

With one exception. He looked up and saw Quentin watching him in the rearview mirror. Leonard couldn’t muster enough embarrassment or shame to look away, so he didn’t bother.

It was late when they pulled up outside the Verdant. Both Sara and Quentin got out, opening the doors for Leonard and Mick, as how they couldn’t be opened from the inside. Sara glanced at Leonard briefly, then turned to her dad.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

Quentin hesitated, but looked resigned. “Yeah, okay, Sara-baby. Call if you need anything.”

He hugged her, taking care not to bump her shoulder. The door to the Verdant creaked open as Mick entered, music and light spilling out, and Leonard was still standing there, unsure.

Leonard met Quentin’s eyes over Sara head, and the former officer cleared his throat and let her go. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Sara said. Then she turned and looked at Leonard.

He wasn’t certain what to say, so he settled for opening the door for her.

Leonard and Mick had called Thea on the way, making sure they were still okay to stay there for some additional time, considered the circumstances. With Lewis dead, Leonard had some testimonies to give both here and in Central City, and decided to stay in Star City first.

It was hardly a conscious decision. He couldn’t leave now, even if he wanted to.

Music and lights hit them both, a wall of sound that was almost painful after the silence of the car. A quick sweep showed Mick had found Thea and gotten another bracelet, the two of them in conversation next to the bar. He saw Sara rubbing her shoulder, the strain of the day wearing on her.

Without speaking, Leonard jerked his head towards the apartments upstairs and Sara nodded. They weaved their way through the crowd, Sara taking care not to have anyone bump her shoulder. Leonard slid into place next to her, blocking her shoulder from wayward dancers. They climbed the stairs and were stopped by a security guard, but a second, smaller man came over and whispered something in his ear. Allowed to pass, Sara walked over the grate, then stepped into the apartment first. Leonard followed, closing the door behind them.

The music was still going, but it was a dull thunder below, the only light coming from the streetlights and glow of the green Verdant sign outside.

Sara was standing in the middle of the room, facing away from him. Leonard took a few steps nearer, unable to help himself.

He never could help himself with Sara.

He was a foot behind her, and she still hadn’t turned.

Leonard swallowed, finding his voice, “Doll, I-”

Sara turned unexpectedly and he caught a flash of silver on her face before she threw her good arm around him and hugged him tightly. Leonard inhaled sharply, wrapping his arms around her carefully, taking care not to hurt her.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled into his chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, pushing her hair back from her face, wanting to see that she was okay. There were tear tracks on her face, and that threw him for a loop. “Doll, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, if I’d just listened-”

“I was an asshole,” Leonard interrupted, ducking his head briefly to catch her eye. “I shouldn’t have lied once I figured it out. I shouldn’t have been so selfish.” Even when he could see her, he didn’t drop his hand from her face, not willing to let her go. He’d done it too many times, once more was asking too much.

“But you had to stop Lewis.”

“That’s not an excuse,” he admitted. “When I realized it was you, I should’ve stopped. I should’ve told you everything,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, stepping back just enough to look at him.

“You nearly died tonight,” he said quietly, his hand still cupping her face. His other hand hovered over her shoulder without touching the wound. He wrapped it around her again.

“But I didn’t. And I don’t regret anything from tonight,” Sara responded. He saw the resolve on her face, his arm tightening around her slightly. “I don’t...I don’t regret anything that led us here, as rough as it was. Because I want to be with you and that’s worth everything.”

“Doll,” he said quietly, leaning his forehead against hers, “I can’t give you the life you deserve.”

“What about the life I want?” she countered.

He couldn’t come up with a response that, closing his eyes as he hung on the edge of possibility.

“Leonard Snart, I love you. Even when I didn’t know who I was, even when I knew nothing, I knew that.”

He opened his eyes, the blue that had plagued his nights staring up at him with no hint of confusion or regret or anger.

She smiled slightly as he looked at her. “I don’t want a quiet, normal life. I’ve never had one of those, I’ll never want that. I want a life with you.”

He’d been a fool to think he knew better. He’d only hurt them both by refusing to tell her the truth, and he vowed to never do that again.

“Sara Lance,” he said quietly, his fingers running along her jaw, the name finally feeling right in his mouth. “I love you, and every name you’ve had.”

He leaned down slightly, feeling her rise up on her toes, and kissed her. It started gentle, but Sara fisted her hand in his sweater, refusing to let him break the kiss. Her lips were soft, slightly chapped, rough and warm and sweet, and Leonard found himself taking more and more and more...

The door slammed open and Sara and Leonard jumped a foot, though he never let go.

Mick stood in the doorway, illuminated by the club lights outside. He stared at them for a moment, then said, “So, you staying with us?”

Sara laughed, leaning her head on Leonard’s shoulder. “Yeah, if that’s okay by you.”

“‘Course it is. Was my idea, after all.” He looked at Leonard. “Mess it up and I’ll make you regret it.”

“Got it,” Leonard responded, his arm tight around Sara’s waist.

With a final grunt, Mick turned and shut the door behind him, leaving them in silence once more.

Sara laughed again, shaking her head and pressing a quick kiss to Leonard’s lips. “Will you dance with me?”

“Sure, doll.” He’d follow her to the door, to the club, to the cops, to the ends of the Earth.

She smiled warmly at the nickname, taking his hand, “Don’t let go.”

Leonard tugged her back against him, kissing her slowly and sweetly before pulling away to whisper against her lips.

“I’m never gonna let you go. Promise.”


End file.
